40 - A Rhythm of Eight part 1 - New Ghost Stories

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
(00:00):
The story you're about to hear wastold to me in the strictest of confidence.
Certain names, dates, and locationshave been changed to protect that confidence.
Events that feature in this story maybe part of the public record.
If you believe you recognize any ofthe people, places, or events that
appear in this story, ask younot to reveal any information publicly out of
respect for the subject's right to remainanonymous. My name is David Paul Nixon,

(00:44):
and this is the New Ghost Storiespodcast where we delve into the New
ghost Stories archive to hear new andclassic cases of the supernatural stories that could
be delusions, lies, fantasies,or perhaps even the real thing. Just
don't make your mind up until you'velistened. This case was a long time

(01:15):
coming. It resolve as a loosethread that's been hanging for years, from
even before I started the podcast.A Rhythm of six was the first case
ever to feature on this show,and although it is case number twenty six
in my case file, it isessentially the first complete new ghost story.

(01:36):
Everything that I'd looked into before thathad either been too incomplete, too unverifiable,
too brief, or I had beendenied permission to publish. It was
the first time that the legwork andthe effort had finally paid off. I
had spent weeks going back and forthwith the subject. We had been through

(01:56):
their story multiple times. I hadscrutinized their count checked all the details.
I was convinced of their honesty,and they had been patient through it all,
tolerated my probing and endless questions.This was also a story with stakes,
but the subject this was the firsttime that they had ever spoken openly

(02:20):
and honestly about the death of afriend and how they believed that death had
come about, the first time theydared to speak what they believed to be
the truth. And then, justas I was about to finish the story,
I received a letter from them,a good old fashioned handwritten letter.

(02:42):
It said that their life was nowin danger and that they would now disappear.
By the time I had their letter, they were already gone. I
tried, but I could no longerreach them. I could perhaps have done
more to track them down. Iwas still developing my skills as a researcher.

(03:04):
But I also felt that I hadno right to pester and probe friends
and relatives when we had agreed thatThis was all to be done in confidence.
The subject did not want to befound. I felt I had to
respect those wishes, strange and concerningas they might be. I published the

(03:25):
story using part of their letter asits conclusion. It was an ending,
but an open one. The storywas not really complete. I was left
with an empty, anxious feeling.I knew that they were at risk,
likely more from their own demons thana more literal monster. At least that's

(03:50):
what I thought. Then, whenI launched the podcast, I revisited the
story, and I saw that Ihad another chance to try and resolve this
case. So I put out amessage at the end of the episode in
the hope that someone, somehow somewheremight hear it and bring forth new information.

(04:14):
I was not prepared for the Pandora'sbox I was about to open.
I surprisingly received a response quite quickly, but it was not the response I
was expecting. I thought I wasdealing here with the fate of one distressed
woman. I had no idea thatthe threads of this case went so far

(04:36):
back and had impacted so many differentlives over so long a period. Sometimes
the more you dig, the strangerthings get. This case consumed me like
no other. There was so muchto uncover, so many different elements to

(04:56):
check and verify, and to beterrified by, because if what I was
hearing was true, if the detailsand crimes were all real and connected,
then I was not simply discovering thefate of innocent individuals, but also a
path of destruction waged by someone somethingthat was truly evil. It got to

(05:24):
the stage where I felt like aconspiracy theorist with pins and threads and scraps
of paper. There were times whenI felt like I was chasing shadows,
like this could not all be true, and that a very elaborate trick was
being played on me by a subjectwho had spun a very detailed and intricate
web of deceit. But this isa case that doesn't rely only on one

(05:48):
person's testimony. This is a casewhere you will hear multiple voices, although
not all of them are now ableto speak for themselves. Over time,
more pieces fell into place, morepieces of information were verified. This is
the largest and most complex case inthe New Ghost Stories Archive, one that

(06:11):
answers questions and raises many more.It does at least resolve what occurred after
episode one, A Rhythm of sixtook place. What happened afterwards and what
happened many many years before it willbe told in two extra long parts as

(06:32):
the climax to season four and asa bookend to this phase of the podcast.
This is case number three hundred andeighty eight. It's called a Rhythm
of eight, and you can hearpart one uninterrupted after these messages. His

(06:55):
first victims suffered a great deal inher brief life. She could barely remember
her father, who abandoned her beforeshe could walk. In time, her
mother would abandon her too. Shedisappeared to South Africa with a new husband,
promising to write to her and sendmoney so she would be able to
join her. The money never came. She received a few letters and then

(07:21):
never saw or heard from her again. She was raised by her grandmother.
They were very poor, but shedid her best. The girl left school
at fifteen to work alongside her belowstairs at a boy's school. It was
a foolish place to put a younggirl to work. It was inevitable that

(07:44):
she would attract attention. A flirtationwith a young man of means grew into
an infatuation to have any kind ofintimate relationship with a student was absolutely forbidden,
but she had only known struggle inher life. A romance with a
young man from a wealthy family promiseda more prosperous future. She was discreet

(08:09):
enough to keep her dalliance secret fromher grandmother and the teaching staff, but
her bow was not above boasting,and their affair, little more than kisses
and caresses in stationary cupboards and lockerrooms, was exaggerated for his audience of
friends. Seeing her as easy,a group of them waited for her as

(08:31):
she was doing her work, tauntedher and then dragged her into the gymnasium
against her will. Despite being thevictim of a serious assault, the police
were not called. The reputations ofpromising young men needed to be protected.
She was the promiscuous one, afterall, she had already had her way

(08:56):
with one of the other boys.She was the bad inflam l once the
hall that was dismissed from service,and so was her grandmother, who should
have raised her better and kept herunder control. The shame and stress of
losing their income caused her grandmother tofall ill. The girl did what she

(09:16):
could to earn a living for them. Both, but she had little experience,
little education, and no references.The menial job she was able to
get paid poorly. They were barelyable to make ends meet. It was
an acquaintance, a woman in similarcircumstances who suggested an easy way to make

(09:39):
good money. She said it wasnot so bad. Some men could be
decent, and the money made itworthwhile. She'd not find a job better
paid. The girl's friends showed herthe ropes, where to pick up her
clients, and how to best staysafe. The work was bearable. Soon

(10:03):
she came to rely on it asa main source of employment. She kept
its secret from her grandmother, whomshe knew would not be able to live
with the shame of it. Shetold her she was working nights at a
hospice and if she came home bruised, it was because a patient had become
disturbed and had had to be restrained. She could tolerate the ugliness of it

(10:28):
as long as she was able tokeep her grandmother well looked after. She
was the only one who had everlooked out for her. When she finally
died, the girl sank deep intodepression. There was one thing to be
a tart to keep a roof overher head. She was just doing what
she had to for a good cause, a necessary cause. Now she was

(10:52):
just alone, just another whore,a fallen woman. The girl began to
drink more and more experimented with otherdrugs. She was thrown out of her
rooms for bringing clients home. Shefound full time work in a South London
brothel, where she worked joylessly,but not without hope. Her mind was

(11:18):
often on her mother, not outof any great love for the woman she
could now barely remember, but becauseher mother had gone away and started life
in a new place with a cleanslate. The girl dreamt about far away
places with baking hot summers and strangefood and handsome strangers, where no one

(11:41):
would know her and care what she'ddone and who she'd been before. She
began to stash away her money sothat someday she might too enjoy a new
beginning. One day a procurer,a madam who served a more high cleontell,
visited the brothel. The lady waslooking for a woman who could handle

(12:07):
some rough and tumble. There wasa special customer who'd pay more for someone
who could really take it. Thegirl had been busted up by John's before.
How much worse could this be?She was warned it would be unpleasant

(12:28):
that his taste was to make girlsbeg for mercy. He liked to torment
them, torture them. But thatwas why the money was good. He
would make it worth her while ifshe could take it. She waited in
a hotel room, cheapen drab,nothing like where we first met. He

(12:52):
knocked on the door, using aspecial knock that madam had agreed with him
before. He was led into theroom and they were left alone. He
told her to strip. He onlytook off his belt. She didn't tell
me all the details. I hadno doubt she could remember all of them.

(13:13):
It ended with a rope tied aroundher throat like a dog on a
lead. He strangled her for misbehaving, pulled her head back whilst stepping on
her spine. He hadn't meant tonot that time, he'd got carried away,
taken his games too far. Hehad to reach deep into his pockets

(13:39):
to pay off the horrified madam andthe girl's own pimp. He paid extra
for them to dispose of her body. She was driven along the Thames and
thrown into the water. Somewhere pastDartmouth. Her body washed ashore down river
but was never identified. She wasas much a ghost in life as she

(14:00):
was in death. Even though theman paid for their silence, the word
was spread that he was too dangerousa customer to deal with. Pimps and
madams would not accept his money.Their girls spread the word that no one
should have anything to do with himfrom then on. He would have to
find the victims himself. But itturned out that that would suit him.

(14:26):
He'd crossed a line that day.Now it was all he could think about.
It had felt every bit as goodas he dreamed it would. There
was no going back now. Mybrother and his boyfriend take me out about
once every fortnight, mostly to quietplaces, because they think I'll be able

(14:50):
to deal with quiet places better andnot find them stressful. He takes his
great duty seriously my brother, andI suppose I should be grateful to have
a brother who'll give up two daysa month for his lost and hopeless sibling.
This week's special event is a tripto a small pub somewhere north of
the city. I think I've beenhere before, but they assure me we

(15:15):
haven't. They forget there was atime when I got out and about a
great deal. I was an epicure, enjoying all the finest cuisines, and
all the finest ales, and allthe finest establishments that the city had to
offer. The conversation is cordial,as is the norm. My brother's tactic
in speaking is to invite me intoall the situations, like I'm a co

(15:37):
conspirator. You'll never guess what whatwould you do if? Would you have
said that? I think he's learntthis style from his boyfriend, who's in
some kind of events organizing. He'salways talking about it, but I rarely
listen. I'm an absolute master ofthe smile and nod empathy, understanding,

(15:58):
comprehension, acceptance, all delivered injust the slightest grin and the briefest tilted
the chin. We're but halfway throughour dining experience when I receive a phone
call, a rare occurrence, forsure, it takes us a moment to
comprehend it. But when we do, we know it must be serious.

(16:19):
Who on earth would call me solate at night and outside my everyday foxhole.
Well, it can only be Joey, ever dependable, Joey. What
can possibly have unnerved her so muchthat she'd need my help late on a
Wednesday evening, I never so muchhas heard her flustered, She's stumbling over

(16:40):
her words. She's in some distress. Someone has died at the hotel,
and I was so looking forward tomy vegetarian lasagna. The maitre d kindly
allows us to leave without paying forupcoming unconsumed courses. We head with haste
back to my haunted out of townhotel. The facade has been lit up

(17:03):
by headlights by the time we arrive. There's an excess of people standing around
in uniforms, lots of hands onhips, and people looking around as if
something dramatic may happen. It bringsback some uncomfortable memories. Joey is standing
by the recycling bins talking to acouple of officers, with one scribbling down

(17:26):
notes. I go over there withconcerned face to introduce myself. Yes,
I do know the identity of thedeceased. We only have the one guest.
How old was she? I wouldguess no more than thirty five,
perhaps younger, No, not oldat all. Yes, yes, it
is quite a shock. Joey hadshown them the entry and the guest book.

(17:49):
She was Claire Parker. She hasa London address. No, she
had not been an advanced booking.It's always quiet at this time of year.
It's after half term. You won'tsee guests back in numbers till the
spring. I tell them how shearrived, dripping, wet and out of
breath. It's as if she'd runthe whole way here. She asked for

(18:11):
a single room for an unspecified amountof time, a couple of days,
at least, she had said.I offered her a double because I had
them to spare. I would havepressed her for a specific duration of stay,
but she seemed distressed. I collectedher card details and agreed to charge
her accordingly. She is very guarded. I didn't attempt to help her with

(18:34):
a luggage. I led her upto Room three, which is on suite
and as a bay window with alovely view of the garden. I tried
to show her around the room,but she just wandered to the window and
stared out. It was dark outsideby then, so she couldn't have been
enjoying the view. I asked aboutbreakfast. She said she'd let me know,

(18:57):
but she never did. I lefther alone and that was the last
I saw of her, and neverset eyes on her at reception or in
the dining room. She'd been heretwo days before. Joey asked whether I'd
seen her since she'd arrived. Shetried to clean the room, but had
been refused entry for the second dayin a row. I'm always at the
hotel, so I would almost certainlyhave heard her come and go, and

(19:21):
I hadn't heard a thing. Betweenthe two of us, we had no
reason to believe she'd even left herroom. We had some funny folk in
the hotel. Sometimes we don't liketo pry. We just clean up the
mess after check out. But extremeexclusion was unusual. What was she even
eating. She shouldn't even have foodin her room. We'd agreed we'd insist

(19:45):
on going into her room to checkon her if she didn't come down to
breakfast by tomorrow. Now she wasdead. I got the rest of the
story from Joey. Her room isunderneath our guests. She'd been studying when
she heard what sounded like a fall. She rushed upstairs and got no answer.
From knocking on the door, retrievingthe master key, she was able

(20:08):
to gain entry and found our guestssprawled on the carpet amongst her things,
Claire wasn't breathing. Jerry did herbest to resuscitate her. After trying CPR
for a few minutes, she calledfor help. She kept trying while she
waited for it to arrive. Thebody had started to go cold. By

(20:30):
the time she stopped. Jerry wasshaken up, but still quite calm all
things considered. She hasn't had todeal with a body in the hotel before.
Another ghost added to my haunted horde. What a time for me to

(20:51):
actually be away. I wonder whetherI should hug her, make some kind
of human contact. Instead, Ido my whole hands in my pocket and
lean forward sort of thing. Theybring the body out, and for a
moment, Jerry breaks down. Sheturns, and I think for a second
that she actually wants me to holdher. I make an uncertain effort to
stretch out my arms, but it'stoo late. She turns and walks away

(21:15):
into a corner of the front garden. It's my brother, so much better
at this sort of thing, whogoes over and offers her a shoulder to
cry on. I've never seen herupset before. I wonder if any of
the people here recognize me, whetherthey came here last time. Some seem
to peer at me, but itmay just be my imagination. It will

(21:40):
be quite a coincidence, but notout of the realm of possibility. One
hotel, multiple deaths. Perhaps I'mthe hospitality serial killer. The stay for
a Night slayer could be a bookin it. When Jerry manages to compose
herself, I ask stupidly if she'sokay, because I'd lack any imagination.

(22:03):
She nods while wiping away a tear. Was there really nothing else I could
say? I asked the police whatto do with Claire Parker's belongings, because
there seems to be no signs offoul play. I probably look too hopeless
to be a real psycho. Theysuggest we hold onto them. They contact

(22:25):
the next of kin and ask themto get in touch. Even with the
ambulance gone, we're forced to recountour stories again. I can see how
exhausted Joey is becoming. It wasafter ten o'clock before we were able to
shew the last of them out ofthe door. It was a strange end
to a strange day. Joey waswaiting for me in the hall just outside

(22:48):
the kitchen. Uselessly, I askif she's feeling okay. Again, she
nods, and I say, I'msorry this has happened to you tonight,
of all the times for me tobe out. Do you want me to
go to a room and sort outher things? She asks? No,
No, I can do all that. You've done enough. You should try

(23:08):
and get some rest and go tosleep after all this, it will likely
take some time, I say,and realizing the implication, she looks a
little ashamed, which was not myintention. I can never find the right
tone with people. I wish agood night and return to the kitchen.
Well, my brother and his partnerare waiting. They'd been boosting morale by

(23:32):
offering copious cups of tea to theattending officers. An awkward silence hangs in
the air quite some evening, Isay, the Hotel of Death strikes again.
The dark humor does not land well, and I thought pointing to the
elephant in the room was usually agood thing. Wrong again, Is she

(23:56):
okay? Asks Sam. That's mybrother's boy friend's name. Funny word.
Okay, I say, I'm sureshe's okay in the sense that she's all
in one piece, all bodily functionsoperating as normal, but okay in a
totally fine sort of way. Obviouslynot. What happened today is probably going

(24:18):
to haunt her for some time.How old was this woman? Early to
mid thirties, much much too young? Awkward silence? Did they say what
it was? He asks, notexactly? I answer it was something to
do with her heart. They probablyaren't able to give out medical information.

(24:40):
One of the paramedics said to Joey, she couldn't have done any more for
her. I guess it was luckyJoey heard the fall gave us some chance,
at least. I suppose much goodthat it did. And there was
a long silent period. It wasmy brother who finally broke it. Why
what sparked sudden tentative inquisitiveness? Idon't know. He hadn't said much during

(25:04):
this chatter. Gavin, that's hisname, so better to use it,
had mostly been looking downcast, carefullyscrutinizing the floor tiles. But as if
a sudden lever had flipped in hisbrain, he raised his head and said,
you like her, don't you.I didn't know what he was talking
about. Joey you like her,don't you. I can tell the question

(25:27):
is unexpected, and so is myanswer. An accurate and truthful response would
have been to say yes, becauseshe is a coarse, likable, a
more warm and friendly person you couldn'thope to meet. What I actually say
is I'm old enough to be herfather, which of course is more of
a yes than if I had actuallyjust said yes. I've surprised myself.

(25:51):
Well that's not true, is it. My brother says she's gonna what mid
to late twenties. I suppose so, but I wouldn't know, I answered,
feeling a wave of shame, andget out of my chair and start
to tidy things in the kitchen.It was defensive gesture and taken as such.
I'm just saying she seems nice andyou like her, maybe you should,

(26:12):
I don't know, make a dinneror something. I do make a
dinner sometimes, but that's because welive together. It makes sense to was
also a little scrabble too, andthe occasional jigsaw, but that was none
of his business. Well that's theperfect excuse, isn't it make something out
of the company. I'm not goingto take advantage of the situation. I

(26:33):
say tersely, turning to face him. You don't have to be so defensive.
It was just an idea, heseemed to get on. Well,
it's hardly appropriate, all things considered. Why not? I already said why
not. She's too young and sheworks for me. It's not right.
It's been a long day, saysSam, jumping in. We're all a
bit tense, breathing out. Gavinsays fine, it was just an idea

(27:00):
that might bring a little joy intoyour life. I turned back to the
counters to continue cleaning up. Samwishes me goodbye. I think my brother
may not have bothered on the wayout. I hear them squabbling, not
so quietly. But there's never agood time. How long is he going
to go on like this? Howhard it is to be a burden to

(27:21):
one's nearest and dearest, How terriblydifficult it is for them. I finished
washing the dishes before locking up forthe night. All was quiet again,
A rare night of excitement for meand my ghosts after half term and Guy
Fawkes, there is little business andlittle drama. Just a few odd travelers

(27:44):
going off for a hike, orbusiness people staying for a conference, or
some such thing. We have onlyone guest booked in all week. We
did consider hosting Christmas here when weopened, put on a few square meals
for some old timers and wait onthem all day, But the stairs are
a bit of an ask. CookingChristmas dinner on masks plus all the other

(28:06):
day's meals in our small kitchen,it wasn't practical, and the risk of
having so many older folks over indulgingin one place the odds were terrible.
Now even the young and healthy arecoming along and checking out for good.
I'm glad the dead can't leave tripAdvisor of Views, or we'd get her

(28:26):
guests at all. Poor Joey,she didn't know what she was getting into
when she took the job assistant managerat the Hotel of Death. I should
have warned her abandon hope, allye who enter here. I wonder how
the ghosts are feeling tonight. Arethey disrupted? Disturbed? Have they welcomed

(28:48):
their new brethren? Are they sharingtheir stories now of how their lives were
terminated all too soon? Do ghostsonly mourn their deaths the halls, wailing,
wondering and crying for what they've lostin life? Perhaps they have a
good old laugh sometimes, or isit all misery? Maybe they celebrate the

(29:11):
good times, reminisce of better daysand past glories. But even that would
be melancholic emphasis on the after andafter life. It's not like they can
move on to other things, orwhy would they be here. I walk
from the kitchen into reception. Iclose my eyes and listen for them,
just for a moment. I hopeshe doesn't leave because of this. I

(29:37):
would miss Joey if she left.I opened my eyes and sigh, What
would Lissa think of me? Willyou forgive me? I say into the
hallway. Answer came there nune asalways, though I hope she was watching
me all the same. I'm lyingin my bed and I've never been more

(30:00):
awake. I'd gone through the motionsand got undressed, showered, leaned my
teeth, and now I'm lying onthe sheets and examining all the bumps in
the ceiling. I suppose nodding offwould be too much to ask, All
things considered, I keep thinking abouthow much I need to sleep. I've

(30:21):
classes to teach tomorrow. I can'treally afford to not get a good night's
kip. There's more important stuff Ineed to do. I've lots of reasons
to feel a bit stressed, andthose are the more pleasant thoughts I'm enjoying
right now. Being stressed is easy, something I can really get behind and
focus on. When I stopped thinkingabout being stressed, I can see her

(30:45):
lying there, head back on thefloor, hair swept out behind her.
She probably looked a bit like Ilook now, slumped back, arms stretched
out, eyes open, staring upat nothing. I change positions, roll
onto my side. I'm exhausted andyet not sleepy at all. I keep

(31:08):
having these spasms lit or shakes.Is this what shock feels like? I
wonder if this is the start ofsomething like the Seven stages of grief?
Am I going to go on somekind of emotional ride. It's not every
day you see someone die in frontof you, not every day you try
to save them and failed to savethem. Something I'm going to have to

(31:34):
come to terms with. I supposeshe'll literally just dropped dead, alive one
minute and dead the next. Ifeel a chill. Do I want to
go to sleep? What if Idon't wake up again? My heart rate
isn't slowing. I'm so anxious I'mnot going to fall asleep. I just

(31:57):
have to accept that. I don'tknow how I'm supposed to feel. I
hadn't known her at all. Sheisn't a loss to me on a personal
level. It's a shock to thesystem and tragic too, of course.
How terrible to die so young,with so much of your life ahead of
you and so much more to do. I have to get out of bed.

(32:20):
Maybe if I walk around a little, I can distract myself. I
feel a bit more normal and slowmy heart beat down. I go into
the bathroom. I don't really needthe toilet, so I splash a little
water on my face. I wonderhow big the bags under my eyes are
going to be in the morning.She looked very tired, like she hadn't

(32:40):
been sleeping. Perhaps I can atleast make some use of this time.
I could progress with my reading.That might even help me get to sleep.
Then maybe I can stop my mindreplaying parts of it. But I'm
too tired for that. I try, but I can't pay attention. I'm

(33:05):
too tired to do anything and tooactive to go to sleep. My mind
keeps wandering back. Her eyes werewide open. Was I the last thing
she saw before she died. Imust get a haircut, something to drink,
something else to do. I walkinto the kitchen and I turn on

(33:27):
the light. He's sitting there inthe dark. I get such a fright.
Mister Phillips says, sorry for scaringme, and for a moment,
I actually think I might cry.I really am on edge. Sometimes he
is so strange. He balls outa chair for me. Is this what
it's going to be like? Suddenpanic attacks? Going over events over and

(33:52):
over? He quaintly offers to makeme some warm milk. I don't think
I've had that since I was Isay, sometimes it's the old things that
work best, he says. Hepours some milk into a saucepan. Might
not work, but at least itshould taste nice. For a moment or

(34:13):
two, the whistle of the gashob is the only sound in the room.
Do you want to talk about it, he asks? Or do you
really not want to talk about it? I don't know, I sigh.
I want to not think about it, but I can't stop myself from thinking
about it. Your mind is tryingto get to grips with what's happened.

(34:34):
It's trying to work out how toprocess it. I just keep playing it
over and over, and you're probablythinking, is there something you could have
done different? I nod. Ikeep asking myself things like what if I'd
gotten into the room faster, takingthe keys straight up their first time?
Would that time have made a difference. I feel a tear fall down my

(34:58):
cheek. I wasn't expecting to beso emotional. The paramedic said that there
was nothing else you could do.Perhaps he was just being kind. That's
possible, but perhaps you deserve alittle kindness. He stands up and tears
off a piece of kitchen roll andhands it to me. As he stirs

(35:20):
the milk in the pot, hesays, imagine, if you hadn't have
been there, she would have hadno chance at all. It didn't do
her any good in the end.It's such a waste to speculate. He
pours the milk into two mugs,spilling a little on the counter. He
passes me mine and sits back down. It tastes strange but familiar. She

(35:42):
can't have been in a good placewhen she died. If she hadn't left
the hotel in two days, whaton earth was she even eating. I'd
forgotten about that. God, mightshe have been starving herself. She could
have maybe brought something in her luggage. She couldn't have brought much. I
think she was all very ill whenshe arrived. You think she might have
done this to herself somehow. Idon't know, not really, But if

(36:08):
someone is determined to hurt themselves,they will find a way. I don't
know what to say to that.This is an odd conversation to have with
him, of all people, knowingwhat he'd been through in the months I've
worked here. I've never really askedhim about it. It's not the sort
of thing you can mention casually.I've only been thinking about myself. This

(36:32):
was going to be a rough nightfor him too. No wonder he wasn't
asleep. I'll expect we'll find outmore if there's an inquest, he says.
I hadn't thought about that. Doyou think there'll be one. I
don't like the idea of talking thisthrough with a bunch of corping strangers that
was going to be uncomfortable. It'spossible. It will depend on what they

(36:58):
determined to be the cause of death, but there could be questions if they
think it was a kind of suicide. I'm sorry I'm not being more comforting,
he says, seeing my unease.I don't know if leaving out facts
and information really helps in the longrun. And I thought I was going
to be spending all evening worrying aboutmy classes to morrow. This kind of

(37:20):
thing does put other things into perspective, but I still have to hold my
classes anyway, he smiles a little. How are they going? Still my
least favorite thing about doing my pHd? Are they interrupting your studies?
It's more the dread of being staredat by twenty bored teenagers. To be

(37:42):
honest, if twenty evens show up, if it's before midday, numbers will
likely be low on the ground.We joke a little more about students,
and it helps to lift my mood. But by the time I'm back in
my room, all the old thoughtshave returned. I can still see her
lying there at the end of thebed, the sheet clutched between her hands,

(38:05):
her blank stare looking up at me. How long had I banged on
the door? Should I have guessedsomething was wrong? Quicker? How much
time did I waste? I seemyself going into her room see her on
the floor. I talked to her, wave my hands in front of her
eyes, shake her. I getno response. Panic sets in. I

(38:28):
check for a pulse, put myhand over her mouth to feel if she's
breathing. I start pumping down onher chest, doing the rhythm to Staying
Alive, over and over. AmI putting pressure in the right place?
Did I wait too long to callthe ambulance? Should I have kept trying
before I stopped to call them?Would I be doing a better job if
I wasn't panicking. It's going tobe a long night, a long rest

(38:52):
of the week. Perhaps I canjust wing it in class tomorrow, try
and fill the time by stoking upa discussion. Most of them won't do
the reading anyway. Things that remindme of Lissa tend to make me think
a lot about Lissa, not sosurprisingly, And if I've been thinking a

(39:13):
lot about Lissa, there's a goodchance I'm going to dream about Lissa.
And if I have that dream,it's not worth going to sleep. I'd
rather just stay awake. I'm usedto sleepless nights anyhow, it doesn't affect
me as badly as it used to. And if I'm one of the ghosts
and staying up late, stalking thehalls, rattling chains from under one of

(39:37):
the spare bed sheets, or tosuit me to a tea. I'll get
a good, long deep sleep tomorrownight. Deep sleeps are usually bad,
dream free. I've been listening tothe complete works of Charles Dickens on audiobook.
I thought I might have a goat writing an end to Edwin Drude.
I found reading the old prose abit tough, so I got the

(40:00):
audio book in a set. Ithought i'd start with the first book,
and then I completely forgot what myidea for the ending even was. Oh
well, I do have to getup and move around a bit. I
don't want the blood drying up inmy veins. Be terrible if I slid
off the mortal coil too by mistake. Poor Joey. I think I scared

(40:22):
her. This has been so hardon her. I hope she's okay.
I will have to keep an eyeon her, be a shoulder to cry
on, if that's what she wants. I don't want to pry or be
a nuisance. I'll keep an eyeout for her, but not in a
creepy way. My own after lifewould be a lot worse without her around.

(40:45):
If I'm up before dawn, I'dlike to take a walk about the
gardens and scare the animals and onexpecting anyone to be up at this time.
It's fun watching them scurry away surprised, as we ever guessed you.
I get back into the normal swingof things after a few hours wandering about.
I have a little breakfast and godown to the basement to put on

(41:07):
the laundry. It's as I'm settingthe dryer that I hear Joey go out.
I hope a lecture goes okay.This job is supposed to be convenient
for her work, and free boardand plenty of time to do her research
at the hotel of death has claimedanother victim. Now she's at risk of

(41:28):
looking foolish in front of some teenagers, a terrible fate, to be sure,
almost as bad as death. Ourown traveler is due to arrive at
three a Miss Marjorie Bloom. Aroom will have to be prepared. We
want to keep a few rooms onthe first floor in a state of readiness
at this time of year. Nopoint cleaning away the cobwebs for rooms that

(41:52):
will stay empty till spring. Normallyi'd just put her into Room three,
but I suppose it's not appropriate todo that now, although she wouldn't know
someone had just kicked the buckets inthere, and I think she mentioned in
her email that she was some kindof accountant, so she probably deserve it.

(42:12):
No, No, best not beunkind. Let the new ghosts settle,
and I won't want her reading aboutit in the local paper and shiving
us on trip Advisor. It willonly take a few moments to put on
clean sheets in Room four and checkthe toiletries are all fresh. I still
have to deal with Room three,pick up and pack away all Claire Parker's

(42:36):
belongings. I haven't been inside yet. I don't know what it will be
like. No sense in putting thesethings off. If I do it now,
I may still be in time tocatch cash in the attic. I
was imagining something a bit like theExorcist, blood on the bed, vomit
up the walls. When I goinside the room, it isn't as bad

(43:00):
as all that. It is abit messy, but certainly no worse than
your average stag deal or dungeons anddragons all night. How very anticlimactic.
There are some clothes around the place, unclean coffee cups and tipped over toiletries.
In the bathroom, the curtains arestill closed. Nothing so out of

(43:22):
the ordinary except the smell. Theroom smells like a hippie's boxer shorts.
I detect the fresh scent of weed. I find a fag end in a
coffee cup, but that can't accountfor the scent entirely. Lists are imbibed
from time to time, especially asthings progressed. Yet there's an accompanying odor

(43:45):
here. In the waste paper bin, I find some burnt stick things.
Could they be incense? A closeup whiff confirms it was. This evidence
surely the police were have taken anythingthey thought they should have. I suppose
if there are any chemical substances involvedin her death, it will come up

(44:07):
in a toxicology report by watch CSIin the afternoons. But they seem satisfied
this was a natural death. Weedand incense is pretty soft stuff, although
she could have taken other things too, not really for me to speculate.
Into the bin bag it goes Ifeel peculiar packing a stranger's clothes away somewhat

(44:30):
purvy I have my hands on ClaireParker's underwear, someone who is dead.
It's not arousing, feels violating.I'm careful to fold things well out of
respect for those who will receive them. Theyn't want to be unkind. Perhaps
they know by now. I supposethe police will tell them to get in

(44:52):
touch, assuming no further investigation isnecessary. I hadn't expected defind myself doing
this again. The room feels dark. I go to open the curtains and
let the sunlight in, except it'sNovember and it's overcast. I need to

(45:13):
get moving or I won't be ableto manage it. I need to get
room four ready. It's not abig job. I can feel sorry for
myself after. Should have aired itout a little yesterday, but little air
freshener makes things all right. Imanaged to put on the sheets, give
it a light dusting, and stopthe bathroom and tea tray in under half

(45:34):
an hour. Not bad considering thedark clouds gathering in my head. I
go downstairs and sing into my chairin the living room. I sit watching
TV, only not watching it.It would be fair to say that the
TV is on I am merely vegetating, not wanting to do anything, dreading

(45:59):
the call of the bell. Whenit comes, I pick myself up and
prepare to put on my best,perky performance when she arrives, or at
least that's the plan. When Isee her in reception, I realize I
know her. She seems to recognizeme too, and with a look on

(46:19):
her face, it isn't a fondrecognition. Marjorie Bloom is a stocky lady,
dressed half smart, half bohemian.She wears a gray suit, but
with a bright scarf, wide retroglasses, and a hat with a tall feather
sticking out the top. She lookslike she's just started to play dress up.

(46:40):
I ask her to sign in,and she keeps glancing up at me,
trying to place me. We haveso many guests, though not as
many as I'd like. It waspossible she'd stayed before. In fact,
I'm pretty sure she has. Hersour voice is starting to trigger memories.

(47:00):
Are you going to help with mycase? I've definitely heard that sniping tone.
Before entering the bedroom, she says, I knew it. I have
been here before. I remember thesepoky little rooms. I won't let it
phaze me. Will he be wantingbreakfast. I suppose so, do you

(47:21):
have some gluten free options? Iassure her we do. I had seen
the review, should have put thebitch in the dead girl's room. I
leave her with the Wi Fi passwordand the card of a local taxi company.
I go back downstairs and sink backinto my TV adjacent coma. When

(47:45):
a cookery show comes on, Istart to think about food. I've had
nothing since breakfast, and it's gettinginto the evening. What should I make?
Perhaps Joey will want something we ofteneat together. If I just happen
to be cooking at the same timeshe comes home. It's starting to get
to that time now. Perhaps she'llenjoy some company tonight. She may need

(48:09):
further commiserating if a day has goneas badly as she thought. It might
probably nice for her to not haveto cook anything. I've been learning how
to play chess. Perhaps I canchallenge her to a game. It starts
to get late, much later thanJoey normally is. She may have some

(48:30):
other engagement, some reason to goout with friends. I don't recall her
mentioning anything, not that she hasto tell me everything. Of course,
it gets to almost eight and Ithink i'd best make something. I make
a sausage ragou and eat it alonein the kitchen. I don't really enjoy
it. I leave the rest inthe pan should she want some later.

(48:54):
But she doesn't come home at all, which is a little odd. None
of my business, of course,it's her life. I'm a little worried,
but she's a grown woman. Ifshe wants to spend the night somewhere,
that's her right. She doesn't needto worry about me, even if
I worry about her. I tryto read, but can't get into it.

(49:17):
It's all so quiet. I canhear the central heating clunk and the
old boiler rumble in the basement.The clunks and clanks are familiar, strangely
comforting, the sound of an oldbeast growling and groaning as it awakens again.
A hotel is a unique sort ofplace, a home, but not

(49:43):
a home, a rest stop forpeople as they move from one chapter to
the next, or perhaps more ofan interval, a page between the chapters,
somewhere that sees many many folks passthrough. It a bus station or
an airport people stay for a dayor two. It's something different and out

(50:05):
of the ordinary, they may lettheir guard down a little bit. You
might come here for pleasure, youmight come here for work. You might
come here because you've nowhere else togo. I know for a fact that
lives have changed forever in these walls. And I don't just mean the people
who have died. Relationships have startedhere been cemented with marriage here. We've

(50:29):
certainly had our fair share of weddingparties, and we've seen breakups too.
Definitely a few sneaky weekend testers gettingtheir bit on the side. My point
is that big things can happen ina hotel. No one stays at a
hotel because something normal is happening.No one ever stays for very long.

(50:50):
Of course, they move on,except for me. I wonder what it
means for this home away from home, for the little pocket homes within my
home, the little shelters from thestorm or haunted house is haunted by its
former occupants. For what happens whenthe occupants pile in and pile out year

(51:13):
after year? How old is thisplace? Over a century? I'm sure
I checked once. I was intolocal history for a little bit, but
I've forgotten what I've found. Whatdo all those people leave behind anything at
all. Echoes. Maybe how muchspiritual energy could have built up here.

(51:40):
I have listened, you'd think aghost like me could hear it. When
we first moved in, I usedto scare Lissa, who'd never lived in
the country before. She was keptawake by strange sounds. Not just the
creaking of the stairs and the clankingof the old pipes, and they were

(52:00):
bad enough, but by the twistingof the trees and the howls of the
beasties in the dark. She wasafraid of being left alone here at night.
Sensitive hobby that I am. Idecided the best thing to do was
to wind her up. I saidshe shouldn't worry too much about what was
outside, She should be worrying aboutwho was staying inside. For all we

(52:22):
knew we had a hotel full ofrapists and murderers. What did we really
know about the people we were lettingin. You don't know what anyone is
like behind closed doors. This isour home right up until they take the
keys and shut themselves in. Thenpart of it belongs to them, and

(52:43):
we won't ever really know what theygot up to in that room unless they
leave a particularly unpleasant mess. Inthe toilet. I think the anxiety was
more about the opening. We hadn'tdone this before. Bringing in guests for
the first time was nerve wracking.You give them the keys, show them
up to their room, and thenyou just have to hope they like it,

(53:06):
keep it clean for them, andserve them toast and corn flakes in
the morning. The better it goes, the less you see of them.
No feedback is good feedback, theyalways say. They enjoy it. When
you ask, you'll get more truthfrom tuts and sighs than you will words
from the English. Then they go, and that's that. New people arrive,
new people leave, and the hotelis never silent. All those noises

(53:30):
remain, the creeks and clunks thatcould be the building settling, or the
radiators coming on, or the soundsof people pacing at night, or getting
in and out of the shower.Hard to know if you ever alone with
so many sounds and so many closeddoors. They used to hide sometimes and
scare her. She never killed me. Afterwards, I was so lucky to

(53:53):
have found someone who enjoyed my perversesense of humor and love of stories and
mucking about a lot of the funstopped when the first one died. We'd
only been open a month or so. He was a bit old, but
not that old. Died in hissleep. When the cleaner saw him in

(54:16):
bed that first day, she thoughthe was sleeping in and left him to
it. It was only when hedidn't come down to breakfast for a second
day that we became concerned. Andthen we went to the door and we
knew something was wrong. It wasthe height of summer, his body had
begun to smell. The jokes aboutghosts in the building didn't seem so funny

(54:40):
after that, even to me.It's a quiet night tonight. There's no
wind, but it is frightfully cold. I decide to knock the thermostat up.
The dial is in the office.I take it up a notch and
listen as the pipe grown back tolife. No rest for the ancient.

(55:04):
The blood pumps through the veins again. I wander into reception and look up
the stairs. I wonder if theghosts are out tonight. I've been told
they're fantasy and I must focus moreon the real world. But I've always
wondered what it would be like toreach out and communicate, to speak to

(55:24):
the dead, or whatever aspect ofthem may still exist. It has been
a hobby of mine to lie verystill, to slow my heartbeat and see
if I can slip into the fragilespace between waking and sleeping. Can a
place that has seen so much lifeand so much loss be such an empty

(55:49):
vessel? Are the whispers I sometimeshear just that sounds in my head,
or patterns created from clicking radiators andsettle lintels? Can this really be just
an empty shell and nothing more?I've tried many times. Maybe I have

(56:12):
heard nothing and sensed nothing. Ihave never been sure. Oh to be
a psychic, a medium. Inever wanted to invite them in. I
never wanted someone to be there asan intermediary for someone else to be stuck
in between. My words would befor her alone, no one else.

(56:35):
But as I failed, I relented. I brought in seers to see whether
they could bridge that gap. Bothsaw different things. Both were theatrical.
One said they could sense a mischievousbut harmless spirit. The other claim there
was a sad spirit in mourning,trapped here and unable to let go.
Surely there should only be one answer. And again, this is a hotel.

(57:01):
Many different spirits may reside here,or maybe none. There's only one
I care about anyway. Perhaps sheis simply not here. Perhaps she has
just gone and always has been,and all that's left of her is in
my nightmares. I find myself walkingup the stairs. It's just an indulgence,

(57:28):
just one more, one last,try to prove myself wrong. It
can do no harm. A hotelwith old beams and an old boiler may
just be an old hotel with oldbeams and an old boiler, and an
empty room may just be an emptyroom. But if I'm right, even

(57:49):
just a little now would be thetime to know. I never tried before,
not with a fresh one. Ifa spirit can never be described as
being troubled, this girl's spirit wouldfit the bill. Not old but young,
taken well before her time, evenmore so than Lissa. I changed

(58:16):
the bedding tidy, the rubbish away, aired out the room, but that
was superficial, not enough to expungethe spirits. In fact, I can
still smell the incense. The airis too still for the aroma to leave.
I will never find a room morespiritually fresh, not unless I decide

(58:38):
to do away with Marjorie Bloom inroom four, I probably won't. I
take off my shoes and place themneatly in front of the bed. I
closed the door, and then Ilie down on the bed atop the clean
bedding. I close my eyes.I start to slow my breathing, deep

(59:00):
breaths, a few seconds between each, emptying my lungs and filling them again,
slowly creating a rhythm. As myheart rate slows. I concentrate on
all that I can hear. Iopened my eyes to stop myself from falling

(59:21):
asleep. I must be relaxed butalert, or else I won't be able
to sense them coming. There wasno turning back. Now he had tasted
a more brutal pleasure, and ithad felt so good. False games would

(59:43):
forever be insufficient, the slap andtickle booten belt discipline would always seem a
feeble compromise. Now he'd experience somethingreal, so the fleshed peddlers would have
nothing to do with him. Nowfine, he would pre cure his own.
He would go hunting for whores whomight not know his face. There'd

(01:00:05):
be some other parts of the cityfar from his normal stalking ground, but
why not seek something more fresh,untainted, and innocent for subjugation. It
wasn't difficult to locate prospective playthings.There are plenty of parts of London where
he could find a bit of skirt, someone who might not soon be missed.

(01:00:30):
As he waited and watched young girlsgo to and from their work or
from school, he realized he mightenjoy this hunt. These new housing estates
were labyrinthine, with many long alleysand dark subways. He spent many hours
watching stalking young women, narrowing hissearch eventually to those who liked to play

(01:00:55):
truant. Snatching a girl before orafter school would gain him too much attention.
It'd be much easier when the dayhad begun and the remainders milled about
unseen, And these would be thetroublemakers, the tear aways. That hasn't
she just run away with her boyfriend? Madam kind of girls. He tracked

(01:01:17):
several targets, managed to keep hispatience and lust in check. She was
maybe fourteen or fifteen. She waspretty, with red hair and just a
touch of attitude, but also alittle short, less strength to fight back.
He learned her habits and her haunts. She was not part of any

(01:01:40):
pack. She often wondered by herself, milling about in parks and on the
canal paths. He watched and waited. He learned when to expect her to
climb the school fence and the routeshe would take. One day, he
took his car to the car parknear the exit of the subway he knew

(01:02:00):
she would walk through. It cameout right by the shop where she would
buy cigarettes. He parked close tothe subway exit with the back doors of
his van wide open. He waitedat the end of the tunnel, where
he could not be seen. Helistened to the footsteps as they grew louder,
and when he knew she was justfeet away, he swung into view,

(01:02:23):
stuffing a rag of ether into herface while he grabbed her in a
bare hug. He lifted her upoff the ground and grimaced as she kicked
against his legs. But when thoselegs fell limp, he let her drop
and he dragged her to the backof the van, throwing her inside.

(01:02:44):
The whole thing took only a fewmoments. He had prepared a new home
for her, an abandoned tenement ina dilapidated street. He kept her in
the basement of a house which didn'tseem to have He might search the place
from top to bottom and never discoverthe discreete door in the pantry. He

(01:03:08):
knew about power and terror. Heknew how to break them. His pleasure
was not just in the suffering,though he reveled in that, but he
sought excitement from the submission to thecomplete domination of their mind and spirit.
He beat her down so badly shehad no will left in her. Her

(01:03:31):
only drive was to obey and pleasehim, and to avoid more pain.
He wanted to test the limits ofhis domination over her the expression of his
victory. The winning move in hiscampaign was to hand her over the key
to her own cell, to makeher her own jailer. For what better

(01:03:54):
prisoner is there than the inmate whofastens their own chair at night. He
commanded her to only unlock the doorat the sound of his special knock,
a rhythm of six knocks, thesame one he had used in the past
to gain access to the brothels.If she heard the knock his exact number

(01:04:15):
of knocks, then she must openthe door. She must open it for
no other reason, not for justhis word alone, not for anyone else,
not for herself. He toyed withher, of course, one knock
too many, one knock too few. He had waited at the top of
the stairs to see if she wouldleave on her own, shouted to her

(01:04:40):
as if he was some stranger wanderinginto the house who might rescue her.
She obeyed in full. He hadbroken her down so thoroughly that his command
was the only thing that mattered.She feared him so much she did not
even think to leave her cell.It was a great victory for his method

(01:05:01):
and his unceasing cruelty, but itwas bitter sweet. Once he had realized
he had dominated her so entirely,she lost all appeal to him. There
was no pleasure in towering over acreature that could no longer fight back.
She was poor sport. The crowningpleasure of putting her out of her misery,

(01:05:27):
he did not get the satisfaction hecraved. She had wanted to die.
Perhaps she was too young, notspirited enough. He would have to
change the game next time, findstronger, smarter prey that would never give
in so easily. But his nextmove was sloppy. He had been meticulous

(01:05:48):
in everything except the disposal of herbody. He did not even travel far
for its disposal. He dropped itinto a pond on some scrubland. Soon
after it began to float. Thegirl's disappearance had elicitated little attention when she
was alive. When she was discovereddead, her body beaten and abused horrifically,

(01:06:13):
she suddenly gained some attention. Thenewspapers, suddenly so caring and compassionate,
demanded to know why the police haddone so little to find her.
If they had cared to look,would this? Could this have ever happened?
While hands were wrung and column incheswere filled, the cruel man made

(01:06:34):
his second mistake. Impatient to experiencethe thrill again, he had wandered on
to familiar turf and had been seenby someone who knew of him and his
crimes. This someone had several clients. She had one who was a policeman.
He was fond of her and hadlooked out for her before, with

(01:06:56):
words spreading of the horrific murder,she confided in him. She told him
of the man who enjoyed brutalizing women, showed him her scars stopped short a
revealing the murder she already knew hehad committed. The policeman fancied making himself
a bit of a hero. Hefollowed the lead up himself. He drove

(01:07:17):
her around for hours, night afternight, looking for the cruel man.
One night they found him grabbing somebottles from a back street off license.
What would a man like him bedoing? Wondering these streets? What was
a man like him doing? Enteringan old ruin through the back door,

(01:07:40):
The policeman followed him inside. Hethought he'd lost him until he took a
closer look in the open pantry.He froze to the spot when he heard
the whimpering sounds from behind the seconddoor. He hadn't expected to catch him
in the act, a prize landingright in his lap. When he saw
what he was making the girl do, and what he had done to her

(01:08:02):
already, the policeman took no chances. He gave the cruel man a taste
of the brutality he took so muchpleasure inflicting on others. But while the
cruel man always maintained his control,took pleasure in prolonging the pain. The
policeman dealt with him swiftly and withoutmercy. He beat the cruel man to

(01:08:25):
death. When the blood had clearedfrom his eyes, the policeman saw that
the prisoner had already escaped. Withthe one witness gone, he dragged the
body upstairs and buried it in theovergrown garden. The tabloid outrage at the
original murder was quickly forgotten. Therewere other, more violent, more persistent

(01:08:47):
crimes to fascinate the public. Thesurviving victim was never traced. The cruel
man's body lay undiscovered, the extentof his crimes unknown. He lay there
as the world around him changed.Houses were torn down, new buildings were
erected. Years passed by, andno one remembered the girls who had disappeared,

(01:09:14):
or the wealthy bachelor who had alwayskept to himself and who had vanished
off the face of the earth.The house that loomed over his body was
repaired and became a home again.It was refurbished, extended, A new
kitchen was built over his body.Bricks were laying on top of him.
There were footsteps and voices above him, and to his surprise, he could

(01:09:40):
hear them. He had awoken.He had come back from the dead.
Things did not go to plan.Maybe I should be taking some time off
whatever it is that's going on inmy head. I'm not used to being
so flustered. Just about got awaywith class. I played a couple of

(01:10:01):
long clips, asked them for theirown views, and read from the textbook
that just about got me most ofthe way through. Only stumbled when one
of the goody two shoes actually askedme about the reading and I couldn't remember.
I waffled a bit, but theykept on asking follow up questions.
Thank God the time ran out.I sit in the coffee shop, my

(01:10:26):
head aches. Why hadn't I justcalled in sick? Perhaps I should cancel
the activities I've planned for the day. No one was literally going to make
me sit in a screening room andwatch rehearsal footage of H's adaptation and Mutiny
on the Bounty, much as Ienjoyed his version, one of the best
things he did for theater. ButI'd pested the tech guys to help me

(01:10:47):
get the film digitized, and Ihave my meeting with Will tomorrow. I
need to tell him something new,show him I'm doing something. I was
doing so much rambling through material Iknow the exact subject of a thesis can
shift and change. But I'm stuckbetween two different ways to consider H's career
and impact. It's not like Ihave to rush it, but I'm just

(01:11:09):
more used to producing specific things todeadline actually putting things out there. I'm
having trouble getting my head around aproject so large and not having definite deadlines
for this thing or that. It'sa bit overwhelming. I need to be
setting myself sensible targets right now.It's all so much noise, so much

(01:11:30):
to do, and not actually knowinghow to do it. It will all
come together, of course it will. Sitting in a screening room for a
couple of hours isn't exactly going tobe hard work. I get my things
together and as I stand up,a group of students see me and they
make moves to take my table.One of them is a brunette with green

(01:11:51):
eyes, and just for a secondshe approaches me. Doesn't really look that
much like Claire Parker, not whenI see her up close, but for
a second there, I feel myheart skip a beat. I feel like
I have to grab hold of mychair to avoid the floor opening up to
swallow me. They ask if I'mleaving, and I can't even speak,

(01:12:14):
I nod and head outside. Iset myself down on a cold bench so
I can catch my breath. It'slike I've just been given a fifty vault
shock. I find myself trembling,and not just because of the cold.
I start having the flashes again,all the highlights, me rushing in,
me trying to wake her, tryingto resuscitate her, fumbling for my phone.

(01:12:36):
Is this how it's going to work. I'm just going to be walking
around super triggered, waiting for somethingto set me off. I start to
walk. I set off really fast. If I'm marching along, I can't
waste time worrying about a dead womanI failed to save. I'm going to
walk it out of my system.I would have gone to the gym if

(01:12:57):
my head didn't feel like it hadbeen stung by a giant. I do
a minimal banter with the tech guysas I pick up the hard drive and
keys to the screening room. Theold research footage should have been interesting h
in his prime with his team,But rather than think about what this might
teach me about his method and hisrelationships, I was just sat there thinking,
here are people doing things with theirlives and you're just stuck in here.

(01:13:23):
You're not that old but not thatyoung, and maybe you're wasting your
life and you could be doing somethingmore exciting and living your own life instead
of trying to leach off the greatnessof someone else's and being too afraid to
disappoint your mother. It was avery unhelpful line of thought. I copy
the material on the hard drive andleave the screening room early. There's no

(01:13:45):
point doing this when other things areon my mind. I need some company,
and I fancy getting drunk. Itext Kathy and we meet at one
of the better bars just off campus. It's two for one cocktails until nine
o'clock, and I get started onan empty stomach. We talk about all
sorts of things, but Kathy keepson bringing things back to work. She's

(01:14:08):
so focused in a way that I'mnot. I don't understand why we can't
talk about other stuff. Is therenothing else we have going on in our
lives? Are there no deep conversationswe can have. I try to get
her to stay out late, butshe's so grounded and she has all these
things to do in the morning.Before she leaves, she says she's never

(01:14:30):
seen me like this before. AmI doing all right? I say yes?
God, can't a girl just kickpack? Sometimes? Christ? How
uptight does she think I am?I don't want to go home. I
give drinking alone a try. I'msipping in my tie and I wonder if
it's the sort of thing Claire Parkerwould do. Was she a party girl?

(01:14:53):
She didn't look like she was wild. Maybe she was more intense,
a career girl. Maybe work hard, go home, be lonely, pushed
over the edge by the emptiness ofit all. Maybe she drink to get
rid of the voices in her head. Maybe the pressure was too much.
I start to feel down. I'mabout to leave when Scott sits next to

(01:15:16):
me. Scott is actually one ofmy students. He's not a child,
he's in his twenties. I think, very good looking. He's laying on
the charm, really thick. Ialways wonder why they think the cheesy stuff
will work. But he does makeme laugh. Maybe that's the point,
And maybe it doesn't matter when they'resexy, when you know what they're after

(01:15:40):
and they know you know, andthey're just waiting to see if you're interested.
Being gorgeous probably guarantees you the rightanswer and lots of forgiveness for bad
lines. Still can't quite believe Idid it. I wake up in a
shitty little student house with clothes allover the floor, Star Wars posted on
the wall, and the terrible odorof man gas and Link's body spray.

(01:16:04):
I actually try to sneak out withoutwaking him. Perhaps he might think the
whole thing was a dream. Nosuch luck. He rolls over and smiles
at me and says, hey,you, what are you doing. I
tell him I'm just going to geta drink. He asks if I can
make him a coffee. I say, yeah, sure, then grab my

(01:16:27):
things, get dressed in the bathroom, and sneak out the back. Have
no actual idea where I am.I figure it out using some road signs.
I need to preserve the last ofmy phone battery for an uber.
I find a greasy spoon and orderan endurance test for my arteries, but
not before making sure there isn't anyonehere who looks like a student. I

(01:16:47):
do not need anyone seeing my walkof shame. My whole head feels like
a blister about to burst. Ihave a sudden, really unpleasant thought.
Was it allowed? What I'd justdone. I wasn't a member of faculty.
I was a student myself. Technically, it wasn't as if he was

(01:17:09):
under age. He practically gave consentwith his grin. I was a bit
older, not that much, buta bit. A thought put me off
my black pudding. I wonder ifI could get in trouble. I couldn't
remember what the rule was or whatthe consequence was. I did get paid

(01:17:29):
for teaching. That probably meant Iwas bound by some kind of code of
conduct. I left half my breakfastand started to panic walk down the street.
Scott wasn't the type to tell anyone right. A brow never goes
on about their conquest to their mates. Do they fuck? Fuck? Fuck?

(01:17:50):
No point crying over a good screw. Even if he did brag.
Rumors are rumors. I could justdeny it, couldn't. I it's not
like any one else was there.Although someone might have seen us at the
bar, he wasn't alone, washe? And had his flatmates seen us
go home? He was making itup. I deny it never happened.

(01:18:13):
Fake news. It wasn't like theywere going to smear test me for evidence.
I feel a little better, notmuch Then my phone battery drops out,
so I have to get bus backto campus to get my car.
He had only runs twice an hour. No wonder my students are always late.
I suppose I'm lucky to not haveany classes or other appointments. I

(01:18:35):
couldn't believe I'd been so careless.Then I see another youngish brunette with a
vague, slight resemblance to you knowwho as I get off the bus,
and I almost leap out my skin. What's wrong with me? I'm acting
out? Suddenly life seems really fragile. I'd been a bit reckless and might

(01:18:57):
have royally screwed myself. It couldbe worse. I wasn't dead. I
might just wish I was. Beforethe day's out. I drive slowly home
and hope I can sneak back intothe hotel without being seen. But I've
forgotten that we have a guess staying. Mister Phillips catches me in reception.
He's running down the stairs for somereason. I don't know how he knew,

(01:19:19):
but he knew. He didn't seeme go yesterday, but he knows
I didn't come home. He doesn'tsleep. He probably spotted I was wearing
the same clothes. Maybe he couldsee the shame written all over my face.
Why is it shame for women andglory for men? We trade a

(01:19:39):
few super awkward words and I gostraight to my room. What if I
want to stay out over night andget laid, that's my business. There's
got nothing to do with any oneelse. He could get laid if he
wanted to. All he has todo is try to interact with the rest
of the world. The poor thing. After I start charging my phone,

(01:20:00):
I see my one to one hasbeen canceled. If Will doesn't try to
put it in for the afternoon,it means I've got more time all weekend
to get my head straight and providesomething that seems like a decent update,
make it look like I know whatI'm doing, assuming I don't get suspended
for robbing the cradle before then.As I'm about to get undressed for a

(01:20:21):
shower, there's a knock on thedoor, a weird long knock, knock,
knock. It didn't sound like hisknock. And when I open the
door, there's no one at reception. He doesn't seem to be around anywhere.
It's very very strange. I walkup the stairs all the lights are

(01:20:45):
out, but as I leave thelanding and step into the hall, I
can see an outline of light aroundevery door. The hall stretches into the
dark. People behind each door peeringthrough the cracks. When I turn to
look at them, they disappear.The door's press shut. The door facing

(01:21:10):
me at the end of the hallfinally comes into view. It's slightly a
jar. I'm aware of noises,sobbing, and crying all around me,
but from this door something else.A sound I find chilling, a sound
of distress, a sound of pain. Behind me, there are footsteps,

(01:21:32):
and I catch a glimpse, asplit second glance, of someone small,
young, running down the hall,escaping down the stairs. An awful scream
turns my attention back to the doorin front of me. I feel my
hand tremble as I place it onthe handle. With little effort. The
door drifts open. The hall isfilled with light, and my eyes shoot

(01:21:59):
open. But I stay still.I don't rise and leapop off the douvet.
I manage the terror stoically, eventhough I feel my heart beating hard.
A man thin like knives a womanat his feet bleeding. I'd only

(01:22:20):
seen it in a flash taken inthe horror for just a moment, I
hadn't been jump out of the bedfrightened because the scene had been cut.
The nightmare had been truncated. Itwas strange and unnerving, and the dream
stays vivid even though minutes pass.What time is it, I'm still in

(01:22:45):
room three. This is the problemof having sleepless nights. When you do
sleep, really do go deep.It's nearly seven a m. I had
at least not slept past breakfast.I have a headache, not the worst
I've had, but grueling enough.I should have asked that damn woman what

(01:23:06):
time she wanted to have her breakfast. Not that I'll have to wait around.
I'll be putting on a continental stylebreakfast to save time. It's a
piece of cake. You only haveto slice a few things. But still,
I could have napped for a bitlonger. It's lucky I am up
a little early. I hadn't takenthe gluten free pastries out to defrost.

(01:23:29):
I'll have to do them in themicrowave. They taste like shit anyway,
I'm not surprised she doesn't notice.She came down just before eight point thirty
allowing me time to wash and havemy cereal. It's weird when there's only
one person down from breakfast. Youcan't act like they're not there, but
you can't hover either. I haveon a cage in attempted casual conversation,

(01:23:53):
sometimes with moderate success. I didnot feel like this was one of the
times it would go down well.I do. However, in one of
my rash spur of the moment,mad urges ask as I clear her things
away, if she has enjoyed itor not. She looks at me suspiciously
and says it was fine, asif I were asking her some loaded question.

(01:24:17):
She disappears back to her room andI go on to do the washing
up. The dream plays on mymind. It's very vivid. I can
still summon all the detail. Ittook place on what seem like the first
floor, albeit a twisted version ofit, with more doors than there are

(01:24:38):
and a door at the end thatisn't there because you just fall into the
hedge outside. I've attempted communion manytimes when the hotel is quiet and there
are rooms empty, I have onoccasion drifted into sleep. Not ideal for
communicating with the beyond, but whenI have have usually been benign, providing

(01:25:02):
I don't dream of Lissa. Thisnew nightmare was not as terrible, but
it was unexpected. I don't understandwhere it came from. I pull the
plug out of the sink, drythe dishes, and go to wipe the
crumbs off her table. Once allis tidy again, I head to my

(01:25:25):
living room, hoping to catch thesecond half of Frasier. There's a girl
in reception. She can't be morethan seven years old. She's slender with
mousy hair, She's wearing only anightie, and she's ghostly white. I
seem to surprise her. She dartsaway up the stairs. I'm slow to

(01:25:46):
react because well, I hadn't expectedto see a strange girl in reception.
She reaches the next floor before Isummon up enough personal gusto to run after
her. Haven't done any running inquite a while. On the first floor,
there's no sign of her. Irun up to the second floor to
see if she's gone that far.That floor also offers me nothing. Going

(01:26:11):
back to the first floor, Itry all the door handles. The rooms
are all locked as they should be, except for Room three, and I
don't try Room four, where myone guest is. I'm sure I would
have heard if her room had beeninvaded. Now, of course, if
she is a ghost, normal ruleswould not apply. She wouldn't likely have

(01:26:34):
been prevented from entering a room byanything as mundane as a door. She
could presumably pass through sealed portals andmerely choose to obey physical reality when it
comes to walking across floors and climbingstairs. Thus avoiding any confusion, I
dashed downstairs to fetch the master key, and as I crossed the floor to

(01:26:56):
reception, I turned back every fewsteps in the hope that I may get
a glimpse of her. I wasnot fortunate, and a survey of all
the rooms on all floors my guesthad now departed for the day reveals nothing.
No one is hiding behind any cupboards, or under any bed, or
in any of the showers. Afterthe initial excitement, I feel deflated.

(01:27:20):
I'm also exhausted. All this actioncan wear a dead man out. Aren't
haunted houses meant to be sleepy affairs. I sit myself down on the stairs,
halfway towards the bottom. After allthis time, I'd been calling for
them for so long? Why now, it didn't make any sense. Why

(01:27:44):
not in all those desperate, despairinghours when I was at my lowest EBB.
Why not those times when I wasout of my mind on medication,
when I was in my best trances, when I'd almost died trying to reach
out. My feelings are so confusedused. There's anger, but also excitement,
anticipation. I'm one step closer.There really was something there. I'd

(01:28:11):
been right all along. Maybe Icould reach her after all. But who
was the girl? That was theold thing I'd expected to maybe see the
woman who died. Who had Iseen instead? I suppose it could be
the same person. Ghosts didn't haveto look the same as when they dropped,

(01:28:32):
did They? Rather rough on thepensioners. The girl's hair was much
lighter, though I had only seenClaire Parker for a few minutes, but
there was no obvious resemblance. Iwas so wrapped up in my thoughts I
hadn't even thought of Joey, whethershe had come back last night or not.

(01:28:55):
Turns out not. I bound downstairsdramatically and almost bump into her.
In reception, she looks tired andanxious, not really like her at all.
The last twenty four hours must havetaken their toll. But she must
have her space. I don't pry. She knows I'm there for her.
I hope. I go to myliving room and sit in my old armchair.

(01:29:23):
I have wanted this for years.I've been reaching out and trying to
speak to the ghosts I've always believedwere there, But they'd always remained out
of reach, not speaking, stayingsilent, keeping their backs turned away from
me. Hope had kept the questalive even when I knew it was impossible,

(01:29:46):
even when I knew it was doingme harm, but I wanted it
to be true. How could Imove on until I knew what she wanted
me to do? How could Ilive if I only ever saw her with
those anger, despairing eyes? Howcould I know she still wanted me to
I'm actually crying. I rubbed myeyes on my shirt sleeves. So much

(01:30:12):
for the impossible. I was right, after all. I'd been right to
lie and say i'd stop. Noneed now to feel guilty. I had
been right all along. Problem is, what do I do now? I'm
more scared than excited. Turns out, hope is different from belief. I

(01:30:34):
realized I actually hadn't really believed it. I just wanted it to be true.
I just wasn't prepared for what itwould mean if it was true.
No time for a faint heart andno time to get carried away. I
was a step closer, but justa step. I waited so long I

(01:30:54):
might finally find out. In someways, it's easier to not ever try
to excited. To fail without startingis no real failure at all. No
sweat is sweated, and nothing hasbeen lost. It's worse to make strides
and stumble, fail utterly and indisputably. Thinking as logically as a man can

(01:31:16):
when thinking of talking to ghosts andgauls, I suppose that she must be
more afraid of me than I amof her. She did run away,
after all. I surprised her,and at that age there's natural shyness too,
I suppose. But she'd followed medownstairs. She was watching me,
my meditations, my dreaming. Itmust have meant something. I must have

(01:31:42):
created some connection. I'd have toreturn to room three. I must learn
more. I must make contact again. He was nothing at first, only
an awareness. He was without shape, but he could sense the world around
him. He could not see,but he could hear the sounds of people.

(01:32:09):
He could hear their voices and theirfootsteps. Time meant nothing to him.
He wasn't real enough to comprehend it. He just absorbed all the noises,
slowly, understanding the way that eachwas distinct, and learning how to
tell each sound apart and to pickone voice from another. He determined that

(01:32:31):
there were three, a husband,a wife, and a daughter. It
was like waking from a dream thatkept summoning you back. He was gaining
some kind of vision. Everything wasa gray, murky cloud, a mix
of light and shadow. He hadsome kind of form that he could control.

(01:32:55):
He could move around this place,but he had no physical force.
As his hearing developed, he couldfinally make out the words spoken by the
family, and they were not ahappy family. He drank and stayed out
late with friends. She nagged athim, was easily overwhelmed and depressed.

(01:33:16):
Their daughter felt neglected and feared.The short tempers of them both. He
could hear them scream and shout ateach other, and it felt good to
him. Their rage and animosity gavehim pleasure. Slowly, he realized that
it seemed to make him stronger.He could absorb it, breathe it in

(01:33:41):
in a sense, and the morehe inhaled, the more he seemed to
slip from the dream and become partof the real world again. He could
not be seen, he could notbe felt, He could not apply pressure
or touch. Yet he knew hecould be more. With each fight,

(01:34:03):
each insult and recrimination, he feltthat bit stronger. How might he grow
if this continued? How alive mighthe become? The family was about to
grow. The mother was due assecond child. Her distress was delicious.

(01:34:25):
On the night she was due togive birth, her husband could not be
found. She was on the phone, desperately calling the pubs and the BUCkies.
When she failed to find him,she took herself and her daughter to
the hospital. When the husband arrivedhome, no dinner on the table,
his wife nowhere to be found.He was in a rage, too drunk

(01:34:48):
to think sensibly. He never consideredthe obvious, never saw the note his
wife had left to him. Bythe time he regained his senses, he
had already given birth to his son. Still born. The cruel man drank
it all in the misery, thesuffering, the hatred. He could finally

(01:35:12):
see clearly again, he could watchhis prey as they tortured each other.
She blamed him, but blamed herselftoo. She sunk deeper into depression,
became despondent. He drank more,spent more time away, enjoyed other women.
The fights grew longer, they becameviolent. One day, on a

(01:35:34):
whim, the cruel man, feelinga euphoria from all their wretched belly aching,
reached out and struck a wall.He was surprised by the sound,
not a loud sound, but asound that he had made. The exertion
exhausted him. It was proof,though, that he could still develop,

(01:35:58):
He could still grow. He wouldbuild his strength back again. It would
take practice, again and again.He trained, gaining force just a little
at a time. Then one dayshe noticed him. She was in the
kitchen cleaning, and she heard hisknocking as she went searching for the sauce.

(01:36:24):
He led her a merry chase.If she went searching in the basement,
he crept back to the kitchen.When she made it back up there,
he went upstairs to see if shewould still follow. He not intended
to end his chase in the abandonednursery, but it amused him. When
she came to believe that the knockingmight be the sound of her deceased son,

(01:36:48):
she was elated at first, strangelyhappy that a baby might be trying
to talk to her. The cruelman laughed. Her husband thought she was
mad. She demanded he listened outfor the child's knocking. So the cruel
man stayed quiet. He chuckled tohimself as she shrieked and screamed and insisted

(01:37:13):
her husband believe her. He threatenedto put her in the madhouse. She
said she'd kill herself first. Ashe stormed out of the house, the
cruel man, strengthened, emboldened,made a sudden, provocative move. He
threw all his energy into pulling downthe door of the oven. She watched

(01:37:35):
it open slowly and believed it tobe a sign from the spirits. She
walked upstairs and carefully, without wakingher lifted her daughter out of bed and
brought her downstairs. She lay herin a chair, made sure she was
comfortable and still asleep, before sheblocked the gap under the kitchen door with

(01:37:59):
sheets and taped over the windows andthe doors and the keyhole. She turned
on the gas and held her daughter'shand. They'd go to heaven now,
where they could all be together again. The cruel man was ecstatic. The
rush nearly paralyzed him for a dayor more, and he could keep on

(01:38:25):
feeding. Many blamed her husband forthe deaths. His family put up a
defiant display, blaming her hysteria.But as time passed and he was left
on his own in the house toobig just for him, with all its
empty rooms and its endless silence,there was nothing left for him except self

(01:38:46):
pity. He further drowned his sorrows. He was drunk, morning, noon,
and night. The cruel man watchedwomen had been his prey before,
But why not me into were theya greater challenge. He was not a
sexual creature anymore. He no longerfelt that kind of desire. He was

(01:39:09):
not stirred watching the widower bring hometarts to spend the night with. His
only kicks now came from the suffering. It was his lifeblood. It made
him feel real. He had thepleasure of waking the old drunk up in
the night, distracting him. Whenhe was with his women, he would

(01:39:30):
knock, using that same old rhythmthat once signaled his arrival all those years
ago. He fed well, buthe wanted more. Pushing mother and daughter
to suicide was one thing. Itwas a pleasure to toy with her,
tipp her over the edge, buthe had only aided her death, pushed

(01:39:53):
her as she teetered on the brink. He had not yet experienced the delirious
pleasu before, the sheer elated joyof taking absolute control and putting them out
of their misery. He needed tobe more than a spectator cheering destruction.

(01:40:14):
His subject was weak, ripe forexperimentation. He could not frighten the sad,
pathetic drunk with his knocking. Hewould take him by surprise by pushing
things over or striking things across theroom. The man was frightened, but
it was just too easy. Whatmore could he do, he wondered,

(01:40:38):
If he was still thinking like aliving creature. He was performing physical actions,
but he was no longer a physicalbeing. Could he influence the man
in other ways? He focused hismind on the drunk. When he slept,
he sounded out his rhythm over andover, trying to project the rhythm

(01:41:00):
onto the man to make him danceto the same tune. It was so
tiring, he might have given upif not for the third night, when
he seemed to wake the man inthe early hours. He looked around the
room to see where the sounds werecoming from, and as he slipped back
into sleep, his lips moved washe mouthing the rhythm. Then later,

(01:41:25):
once he was awake, the cruelman watched the derelict, tapping his foot
on the tiles of the kitchen floor, clanking his spoon against his bowl of
corn flakes, drumming his fingers onthe table as he viewed the latest bills
and final demands. The cruel mancarried on in spite of the exhaustion,

(01:41:46):
focusing on how to project his mindfurther. Now the man couldn't sleep,
he couldn't think. His head waspounding. He binged on headache pills,
drank even more. The sound wouldnot stop. His suffering made the exertion
worthwhile. The cool man's endurance builthis strength back. He drove the pitiful

(01:42:11):
drunk down and down until he wasscreaming and crying on the floor. The
cruel man fancied he could hear theman's heart beating, and that gave him
new inspiration. He focused his thoughtson the man's chest, driving the rhythm
into his very veins and valves.The drunk turned over on his back.

(01:42:31):
He writhed, He shook, hishead knocked back against the floorboards. The
cruel man could control the blood thatflowed through him, and with his new
control, he slowed the rhythm down, slower and slower and slower. The
cool man watched the drunk as herealized he was breathing his last sweat on

(01:42:55):
his brow, his mouth hanging open, his eyes glazing over. He slipped
from consciousness. The cruel man ceasedthe rhythm, The derelic died, and
the cruel man experienced an explosion ofsheer, unfettered bliss. He almost felt

(01:43:19):
real again. He could almost feelhimself in the throes of orgasm, his
nerves burning with excitement, his hairstanding on end, like he had a
real body again. Once the sensationstarted to fade, his mind raced with

(01:43:39):
new possibilities. What might he donow? What might he be able to
accomplish with his new powers? Whatpotential did he really have? Could he
become whole again? Unfortunately for him, he would have to wait. The
house fill in to diff repair.No one seemed to want this house of

(01:44:02):
death, he lost his form andslipped back into the dream. He would
have to wait before a new chanceto rise again would arrive. There was
a knocking at my door, andI've been enjoying a nap. They kept
knocking, so they weren't going away. It wasn't his knock, though.

(01:44:27):
I'm probably not looking terrific. WhenI opened the door, I find myself
staring at a peevish looking woman withwacky glasses. I'm not in the mood
for customer service. I don't havethe head for it right now. This
must have been the guest i'd forgottenabout. Do you work here? She
barks, I keep on hearing astrange knocking in my room. Oh,
I say, I'm sorry to hearthat. I'm trying to meditate and it's

(01:44:51):
very distracting. That's a shame shewoke me up for this. What are
you going to do about it?I'm not sure. This is an old
building. Sometimes the pipes can knockwhen the heating is No. No,
this isn't a normal thing. Thisis a knocking, not not knock like
I just did on your door.Oh. I was told I was the

(01:45:14):
only person staying here. That's true. I think I tried to roll my
shoulders. I'm feeling very stiff.Well, then someone else is doing it.
There's someone running about the place too. There was a terrible racket this
morning, someone charging up and downthe stairs. I'm sorry I wasn't here
this morning. I guess it couldbe the owner. He seems a very

(01:45:35):
odd person. Indeed, I don'tthink mister Phillips is likely to be going
around knocking on things. He mightbe strange, but I don't think he'll
be hassling a paying guest. Wedon't get enough of them. Well,
someone's doing it. Please inform yourboss. And I have a choice of
places where I can stay, andI don't need the stress of all this.

(01:45:56):
I was negative about this hotel onlinebefore, and I'm sorry to say
my opinion. And this time it'slikely to be even more severe. I
will tell him and see that itstops. She turns to go, but
then swings her head back to thrownimmediately before heading down the stairs. I
feel my headache coming back. Justone guest, and she has to be

(01:46:16):
a difficult one. I go intothe kitchen for some medicinal caffeine and sugar
as the kettle boils. I wishfor something stronger. I wonder where he
is. Normally has the TV orradio one while he's doing whatever it is
he does all day, jigsaws orreading or crosswords or learning chess. Again,

(01:46:38):
it was the wrong time of yearfor him to be out in the
greenhouse. I take a look outsideanyway, but it's dark, so I
can't really tell. I feel likeI need to explain myself for arriving or
flustered and staying out all night.But why what am I a school girl?
I don't have to give an accountof myself to anyone. I'm perfectly

(01:46:59):
fine with my shame. It's noone else's business. I drank the coffee
in two gulps. I wish itwas summer. I want to go out.
I don't feel like being cooped upindoors. Today is supposed to be
a study day. If my supervisorhadn't canceled my one to one, I'd
have to go in and update himon my progress and on where I thought

(01:47:20):
my thesis was going. Was thefocus going to be on the unknown influence
h had on British culture post WorldWar II through the connections of the gay
scene. Was it going to bea wider piece on the hidden gay network
that influenced British culture? Simply usingh as a jumping off point, I
wonder if Scott is free tonight.No, it was just a one off.

(01:47:44):
He's a once only plaything, albeita very good one. I can
do better at some point. Whenwould I get around to that? When
was my next lesson Tuesday? Ihad plenty of time to prep that.
It was all, how's the weekend? But I'd work then too, so
I couldn't really let my hair downtomorrow either, Not that I'm even to

(01:48:06):
let your hair down kind of person. I'm exactly the opposite of a party
girl, quiet study days am Ithing? Why am I even acting like
this? Questioning myself? Oh right, because I saw a girl die in
front of me who was barely fiveyears older than me. That happened in
my head, it's still happening.She died in an empty room alone.

(01:48:30):
I don't really want to be thinkingabout this. Perhaps he's in the mood
for a scrabble tournament. I likethe distraction. Could you have really gone
out? That would be an amazingleap for him? But shouldn't one of
us be in the hotel at alltimes, as he's always here. We've
never actually discussed it. I knocklightly on his bedroom door. The door

(01:48:53):
was already part open. I lookinside and it's empty. Maybe he's in
the basement doing the lawn. I'mabout to go down there when I hear
the knocking, a string of littleknocks. It wasn't the plumbing. I
know what that sounds like. Thiswas different. It had a rhythm to

(01:49:13):
it. Might be coming from upstairs. Maybe our guest was onto something.
I walk out into reception and thenI head for the stairs. When I
get to the landing, I'm drawnto run three. He'd taken it upon
himself to clean up after Claire Parker'sdeath. And when I look at the
door, I see it's not locked. The door isn't firmly in the frame.

(01:49:36):
I put my hand on the handleand let myself in. I catch
him sliding off the bed and landingon his feet. Hi, hello,
I was just finishing tiding things upin here, okay, I answer,
carefully, not making any expression atall, just checking to see whether I'd
left anything behind. Right, Sure, but looks so like everything's fine.

(01:50:01):
He spins around on the spot,as if to give the room a quick
once over so I can lock up. He had none of the normal things
that you have when you make aroom ready for guests, but there are
a few odd items with him.What about those? I ask? There's
a pair of slippers on the floor, a mug of tea on the side

(01:50:21):
table, next to a smoker's pipe. Seeing my puzzlement, he picks up
the pipe and says, she musthave enjoyed smoking something. You notice the
smell when you came in. Itdid smell a little peculiar. Are you
okay? Yes, of course,perfectly fine, and you fine, really

(01:50:43):
just fine? Well good. Ithink we can then close up the room
and leave it at that. Yes, right, let's do that. Good.
Yes. He closes the door,and I stand watching, knowing very
well that he knows that I knowwhat he's really been doing. We walked

(01:51:03):
downstairs together, awkwardly, silently.If what I'm describing makes it sound like
I've caught him doing something you shouldn'tin the room, the answer is yes,
but it's probably not what you think. His trousers were on. But
he has a strange habit, oneI've been warned about. No need to

(01:51:23):
panic. He's a threat to himself, not others. I thought he'd stop
doing this though. Maybe the bodyin the room had affected him too.
Shit, what do I do?I follow him back into the kitchen.
He doesn't seem in a bad way. It just seems his normal, happy,
sad self. What do I saythe woman who's staying here. I

(01:51:48):
saw her earlier today, friendly andjolly of temperament. I trust she's a
real ray of sunshine. She wascomplaining about hearing a knocking sound. Really,
he said he'd filled the kettle andwas watching it boil rather than look
at me. Yes, it wasstopping her from meditating or something. She's
on some kind of retreat. You'dthink that kind of thing would have a

(01:52:10):
mellowing effect. But oh well,as long as she pays the bill.
He turns a little to smile atme before reaching to the draining board for
a mug. She also said sheheard some one running around. Really,
he tilted his face towards me.Again, wasn't me. I'd been downstairs
all day with my Dickens audio anthology. He didn't sound like he was lying,

(01:52:32):
but then again, he never does. That's the thing with him.
He doesn't seem like a crazy person, not until you know his history and
the things he does and doesn't do. You were out last night, he
says, finally turning around, mugin hand. Did you have a nice
time? Oh? Erm, Istill don't have a good answer for this.

(01:52:54):
Yes, I went out for afew drinks with Kathy. It was
fine, but of a girl's nightout really. And you stayed over with
her? Yes? Stayed over herfine? Yes? Go anywhere nice?
Well to hers? Yes, herplace is nice, but also to mccloskey's.
It's the bar near the South Campus. You ever been there? Of

(01:53:15):
course he hasn't. I don't recallit, no much as I enjoy going
out on the lash. I laughedtoo loud. It was a bit weird.
He even seemed to react to it. He didn't allow a long,
awkward silence, though. He intervenedand said, I was thinking of having
something to eat. Do you fancyanything? Oh not, now, I'm

(01:53:39):
not that hungry. Well, Iguess I could wait a little if you
want. It's up to you.Don't let me pressure you. I just
have quite a lot of work todo. Staying out late, you know,
put me quite far behind it's beena strange couple of days. Certainly
has well. I will be makingmy famous lasagna. If you'd like a

(01:53:59):
portion, it will be the othernor fridge waiting for you. Thanks appreciate
it. I didn't exactly run formy room. I just got back there
a little faster than normal. Ineeded a bit of space to think on
my head. This might not beanything. It could be a one off,
assuming he wasn't doing this all thetime. I can't spend all of

(01:54:20):
my time watching him. That's notmy job. He's a grown man who
can look after himself. Maybe,And it all sounds so silly when you
think about it. What's so harmfulabout a man lying silently in the beds
of his own hotel. They're hisbeds and his rooms. I wouldn't have
guessed living in your own dream worldwould have been so harmful. I'm perfectly

(01:54:44):
happy to sit around up to myeyeballs and papers and books. A life
of peace and quiet is perfectly nice. But his world isn't a nice one,
even though he always acts like he'sperfectly fine. Didn't get weird vibes
when we first met. He wasa little shy, but friendly, but

(01:55:04):
I ought to have asked more questions, like how had one guy run a
hotel on his own for all thistime? He has some part time staff
during the summer, but he wasdoing everything else himself. Of course,
I didn't find out about his wifeor his brother until later. I was
grateful to get the job. Ididn't have a ton of experience, just
some part time hospitality jobs. Itseemed like a good fit. It would

(01:55:30):
leave me most of the day tostudy and would only be really busy during
the holidays when I wasn't teaching classes. I remember asking him why I got
the job, and he said hejust thought I seemed like I could handle
it. I do seem to givepeople that impression like I'm always on top
of things. I think there's justsomething about my face anxiety doesn't really show.

(01:55:53):
I'd been there only a day ortwo when I finally met his brother,
Kevin. I'd heard a rather heateddiscussion coming from the kitchen. I
crept towards it to listen, andthen he came storming out and saw me,
making me jump. I must havelooked very guilty. He wasn't angry,
but apprehensive. He looked at meas I'd just walked off as secure

(01:56:13):
ward. Perhaps he was wondering whatkind of person would agree to do a
job like this, or what kindof person his brother would even hire.
We walked into the dining room andhad a quick chat. He seemed relieved
after talking to me for a fewmoments. I'm about as ordinary as they
come. He wanted to take mynumber just in case he needed to contact
me in an emergency. Was thatthe first sign of something odd? I

(01:56:39):
remember thinking what would he need tocontact me for? He called me just
a few days later. He askedme if i'd come and join him for
a coffee in town. It wasweird. He said he needed to talk
to me about something important, butit wasn't anything I should worry about,
which is a bit like when yousay I don't mean to offend you,

(01:56:59):
because as you know, you're aboutto say something offensive. It only made
me worry more. I arrived atCosta coffee a few days later he was
sat in a booth with another manwho turned out to be his boyfriend.
I've got to admit I was surprisedwhen I saw you on Thursday. He
began. My brother didn't even tellme who was looking to hire anyone he

(01:57:19):
likes to play games. It's astupid way of showing me he doesn't need
my permission to do things. Yeah, it escalated quickly, and for a
moment, I'd started to feel atease. You've been helping him to run
the place, I asked, helpinghim, I've practically been doing it myself
for the past year, Gav.His boyfriend put his hand on his knee.

(01:57:42):
Gavin closed his eyes and took adeep breath. My brother, he
started again. I don't know howto tell you about all this. I
just I just think you need toknow if you're going to work there and
live there. The whole time,I didn't like where this was going.
You ought to know. I knowwho my brother is. He's had problems,
He's not well. He's not dangerous, said his boyfriend Sam, noticing

(01:58:08):
my growing unease. He's not violentor anything. He's a nice guy underneath
it all. Really, Yeah,I'm trying not to panic you or anything.
It's been a bumpy ride with us. He's a good guy. Essentially.
Perhaps you should just come out andtell me, I said, feeling
heavy with dread. Look, it'snot that you need to be concerned.

(01:58:29):
Not really, You just should knowthat my brother, he's never been the
same since his wife died. Bythen, I'd noticed mister Phillips mentioned someone
from time to time. He'd neversay a name, but he talked like
he was married in a way thatyou don't talk about yourself in the singular.
We thought it looked nice there.We used to cook that all the
time. He still talks about herlike she's still around. I said,

(01:58:55):
yeah, and she's been dead forover two years now. She was a
breast cancer patient, said Sam.She was really young. It was really
tragic. He said that the tumorhadn't been detected early. It had spread
far before she started treatment. Shewent through chemotherapy, Sam continued. The
side effects were really bad, worsethan they are for most people, and
they're always pretty bad. She lostlots of weight or her hair. Of

(01:59:19):
course, she hardly looked like herselfany more, said Gavin. It looked
like he might start to tear up. They were trying to shrink the tumor
to reduce the amount of surgery shehad to go through. They hoped she
might not have to have a mastectomy. That's where they have to remove that
I know what a mastectomy is,I said quietly. She went through all

(01:59:40):
of that and it didn't work wellenough. The tumor came back and they
recommended she had the operation. Butthat wasn't all the bad news. The
chemo also made her own fertile.She couldn't have children anymore. Then she
killed herself, said Gavin bitterly.They had wanted to have her family.
It was one of the things thathelped to get through. Starting a family
was what they were going to dowhen the treatment ended. Did she kill

(02:00:04):
herself in the hotel? Sam noddedslipped her wrists in the downstairs bathroom,
said Gavin. She stuck a noteon the door telling him not to go
in, as if he could juststay outside. It's hard to describe how
I felt right then. Awkward isn'treally the word, More like being hit
with an articulated lorry load of discomfort. What are you supposed to say when

(02:00:29):
someone lays all this down on you? I've I got myself into Before the
funeral, he attempted to kill himselftoo, said Gavin. He'd been in
a state of shock ever since ithappened, walking around in a daze.
Still talking about her like she wasstill around. We found him unconscious in
the kitchen. He'd taken a wholeload of pills, but he'd thrown up

(02:00:50):
a lot of it. They pumpedhis stomach in the hospital. He was
fine physically, but in his head. He's never been the same since.
They told me about his communions,his attempts to talk to the dead.
He and his wife had this longrunning joke about the ghosts living in the
hotel, but he had started tobelieve it. He wanted to believe he

(02:01:14):
might be able to speak to her. He blames himself, said Sam.
He thinks if he'd done more,she wouldn't have given up. But it's
worse than that, said Gavin.He thinks he let her down because he
failed when he tried to kill himself. He thinks he'd be with her now
if he'd managed to do it.He has these nightmares when he goes back

(02:01:34):
into the bathroom and she's there,and when she wants to know why he's
not with her. Now he's stuck. He wants to talk to ghosts because
he wants to hear her forgive him, but he's too scared to leave the
hotel and live his own life incase she doesn't. He said he'd always
had an active imagination, the kidin class who always preferred to make up

(02:01:55):
stories and adventures on his own ratherthan play with the other kids. He
now lived in. I had afantasy made of his own nightmares. Hasn't
he had any help? Yeah,but he lies. He acts like it's
all a game. He has beengetting better, said Sam. He is
acting more normal as time has goneon, but he's not there yet.

(02:02:15):
He still won't leave the hotel unlessyou take him out with you. He'd
go out with you to prove hecan do it and pretend like he doesn't
have a problem, but he won'tgo out by himself. He still has
all our things there, said Gavin. He locked them all up so he
wonn't have to look at them,but he feels too guilty to get rid
of them. All her paintings aredown there. You'd think he'd want to
look after them, do something withthem. He only keeps that one in

(02:02:39):
his office. I had noticed thatone is that the charcoal sketch. There
was a small a four sized selfportrait of a woman with wild curly hair,
the one where she's not looking directlyat you, he said darkly.
After a moment or two of silence, Kevin said, I was actually really
angry when I found out he'd hiredyou. I could tell you weren't quite

(02:03:01):
pleased to see me. Yeah,he smiled. It's good he's starting to
think about normal things had been morepractical. Might be another sign he's starting
to come out of it more.But you never know. He play acts
acts the way he thinks you expecthim to. Sam said, we know
this is a lot to take in. That's an understatement, I say,

(02:03:23):
but we thought we had to tellyou. If you have this job,
you do need to know that heisn't well, not completely. I'm glad
you told me, I said,not knowing what to think about any of
it beyond just freaking out. Yousay he's not dangerous, not to other
people know, said Sam. Buthe did try to kill himself again,
said Gevin. Might have tried tokill himself again, said Sam. A

(02:03:47):
little glance between them showed disagreement.He thinks to be able to talk to
the spirits, you have to bein an altered state, Sam laughed a
little. He tried starving himself andwhen that didn't work he tried. Guessing
himself too could have been a cryfor help, said Gavin. I don't
know. It's his own world.I don't know how to reach him anymore.

(02:04:11):
I should have had lots of questionsto ask. What was I even
going to say? It was asif I'd had a bookcase full of books
dropped on me. It was toomuch information and it was more than I
could take in, and it hurtreally bad. We think you being there
will probably be good for him,said Sam. Will it be good for
me, though, I said sharply. We understand if you don't want to

(02:04:33):
stay, said Gavin. We'd obviouslytalk it through with him, and you'll
get paid for the work you've done, and there'll be no hard feelings.
I'm not really bothered about the money, but thanks all the same. This
is all a bit big, notwhat I was expecting to be getting into.
They said I could just call themand let them know if I chose

(02:04:55):
to stay. They asked that Icould let them know if he was saying
or doing anything strange or concerning.I took the long route back to the
hotel. Sometimes a long drive helpsme think, but not this time.
I mean, if I'd lost someonethe way he'd lost someone who won't come
out of that a bit broken.I couldn't begin to know how he felt.

(02:05:18):
I couldn't even imagine loving someone thatmuch. I'm not really a hot
and cold, passionate person. I'ma mediator personality. Getting annoyed when they
get my order wrong at Starbucks asabout as high as my temperature goes.
Not until recently, anyway, WhenI pulled into the car park, I
started to see the hotel differently.I hadn't thought of it as an old

(02:05:42):
building before, but at this timeof day, the sun was shining behind
it, and it cast a longshadow. It looked a little like it
was leering over you, leaning forward, like it might one day just topple
over. It wasn't quite the BatesMotel, but it was an odd thing,
a tall Edwardian house, hidden discreetlyin the countryside and difficult to spot

(02:06:03):
amongst the trees. You might havethought it to be the kind of place
where people were sent when they neededa few weeks to dry out and get
back on their feet, without anyonelikely to spot them. I let myself
in and tried to find him.All the stuff I'd heard was frightening,
but I felt more sorry for himthan scared. But did I really want

(02:06:25):
this hanging over my head? Ihad to prioritize my studies. The job
seemed to fit in with those,but not if I had to play minder
to a man in need of somereal mental health support. He certainly didn't
feel right just taking off, thoughnot without seeing him. At least he
wasn't in the shower. I foundhim outside in the garden. It's a

(02:06:45):
nice space, A decent sized lawn, surrounded by flower beds on two sides,
with a greenhouse and growing patch onthe other side. There's a little
patio where guests can lays when theweather is nice. He was wearing his
gardening gear and empty his wheelbarer ofclippings into the wheelbin. How goes it,
he said, cheerily. It shouldn'thave surprised me. He's often cheerful.

(02:07:10):
We don't walk around with our miseryhung around our necks. You've still
got to live every day. I'mokay, thanks. It's a lovely afternoon,
isn't it. I feel like Ishall have to work till sundown.
When I had the chance to,he seemed to have a lot of energy.
I was shattered after two weeks ofearly mornings and mass breakfast making.
Done anything nice with your day off, he asked, Just coffee with a

(02:07:32):
couple of friends, nice to catchup, He nodded, smiling. I
hadn't actually thought about what I'd say. He picked up the lag in the
conversation. I'd been doing the weedingthis morning. No matter how I'll mean
the poison, they still come back. Doesn't seem long ago that I reset
the paving. Now they're forcing itapart again. I think that's why I

(02:07:55):
could never get into gardening. It'snever finished. I like getting to the
end of something knowing that it's donewell. In a sense, gardening is
all about finishing. I finished thelawn yesterday and the hedges too, and
then next week I'll get to finishthem again, and the week after that.
It's never ending. Well, nothing'sreally never ending, he said,

(02:08:16):
putting a lump in my throat.And there are rewards in the activity of
maintenance, keeping something looking at bestso it can be enjoyed. That can
be rewarding. Noticing I was outof words again, he said, are
you okay? Fine? I'm tired, that's all. Can't believe the day
is half over already, and backto work again tomorrow. The demands of

(02:08:41):
one's guests, they too, arenever ending. I shall be done here
soon. Just one more task tobegin. He turned to the building.
He was looking up to the creepingivy. This will be the first step
in a major undertaking. A spreadof bright green stretched from behind the flower
bed all the way up there thewindows on the second floor. It's got

(02:09:01):
to go. It's getting into thecracks on the rendering, and it's only
going to make them worse. Itlooks so nice, though, I said,
looks can kill. At the rateit grows, it'll dominate the wall
by the end of the summer.I have to act now or it's too
late. Where do you even start? Ah? By cutting it off at
the source, I saw that hehad been clearing a space through the plant

(02:09:24):
bed to get at its roots.Despite the many spiraling tendrils, the whole
thing was sprouting from just one thickstem. Cut it right through to weaken
the beast ahead of its slow andgrueling removal. Rather a shame, he
said, with a sigh, tobring down such a thing of beauty,
in its prime. No small thingto let it die slowly. It'll hang

(02:09:45):
on here for dear life, ofcourse, but it must come down in
the end. If I let atear fall, I don't think he noticed.
I'll be working on it for weeks, and then who knows how long
it will take to repair the damage. He spoke a little slowly, nearly
noticing the parallel, but then hesuddenly switched tone and started cheerfully talking about

(02:10:07):
the guests, gossiping about the oneswho were definitely smoking in their rooms,
jokes about old biddies who never stoppedtalking, the couple who are definitely going
to end up getting divorced. Ismiled, and I nodded, and I
laughed sometimes, and then I wentback inside to have a little cry in
my room. I'd been freaked outbefore. Now it just seems so awfully

(02:10:28):
sad. I understood, if onlya little, about how it must hang
over him always. I imagine ClaireParker lying on the floor in front of
me, another living, breathing person, real beautiful, cut down in their
prime. I don't know what herdemons were. Such a terrible waste,

(02:10:52):
all those plans, all those thingsyou'd think you're going to get to do
with your life, all the thingsthat you have laid out in front of
you, and it can all justbe taken away, cut away from beneath
you. I sit down by mydesk. I look at the piles of
paper, the stack of books,some read, some gathering dust, the

(02:11:13):
files, the photos, the DVD's, and the tapes of H's old performances
and interviews, and I just wantto knock the piles down, throw the
papers in the air, and kickthe books across the room. Why though,
this is what I did, Thiswas what interested me, drove me.
I know some people would find itboring, this kind of research.

(02:11:35):
That's fine. I don't need anyone to tell me how I should live
my life. This was my choice, even if my mum did come up
with the idea of my thesis.First. If I'm boring, who cares?
It works for me? I've madepeace with it. But right now
it all seems so worthless. Idon't know much about Claire Parker, but

(02:11:58):
Lyssa Phillips was an artist. Idon't know how good of an artist.
Judging by the sketch, she wasmore than competent. I've always been fascinated
by creative people. Perhaps because I'mnot very creative myself. Is that what
my life is? An attempt tolive through other people's lives vicariously, because

(02:12:20):
I lack a spark of my own. I flop back on the bed.
Maybe there was a reason the researchwasn't coming together. Maybe some part of
me knows this isn't the right pathfor me. I may be independent.
This is my project, but couldit be that I was leading someone else's
life. Doesn't sound like the sortof mistake Josephine Worsley would make. And

(02:12:43):
it's not like I don't find thematerial interesting. This is a project that's
worth doing. It's all very worthy. It should make for a good thesis.
Eventually, a ping from my phoneinterrupts my round encircles thinking good I
could do with the distraction. It'srather unusual to get a signal indoors.

(02:13:05):
It was a text from Kathy.It just says have you seen this?
Followed by a link. I clickon it and it opens up on Facebook.
It takes me to what looks likea student's group page, some club
or other. I don't really payattention to the group, just the picture.
It was a picture of me lyingin bed. I was covered up

(02:13:28):
at least the duvet clutched up tomy neck. Scott had written a caption
above, it doesn't look so badunder her cardigan, followed by a wink
emoji. As I feel the groundfall out from under me. I hear
that knocking sound on the walls again, Are you really a ghost? Well?

(02:13:54):
I haunt one place. I neverleave, well almost never, and
I'm very I'd barely make a sound. Do you walk through walls and say
boo? Not exactly? Not realghost? I sigh, Now, I
suppose not. That's my problem,stuck between places alive yet dead, dead,

(02:14:18):
not alive. It's terribly confusing.Don't know whether I'm coming or going,
an outcast from all worlds. Shetakes a roll of the dice.
The pipe and slippers hadn't quite createdthe safe, kindly image of fatherhood i'd
wanted, but she'd been curious aboutme anyway, and that curiosity had eventually

(02:14:41):
brought her out of hiding. I'dspotted her staring at me from behind the
bathroom door while I was performing communion. What followed was a sort of peek
a boo game. Whenever I lookedat her. She would dart from behind
the door, only then to returna few moments later when she thought I

(02:15:03):
wasn't looking. By the time Joeyhad interrupted us, I'd managed to hold
her gaze for a few moments.She was becoming less afraid, but was
still unable to make the leap ofactually speaking to me. After leaving the
telly on in my bedroom for sometime, making sure Jerry was in her
room, I crept back upstairs.I'd taken some old travel board games up

(02:15:28):
there with me. I deduced thatthe best way to attract her attention was
to apply no pressure at all.I sat playing drafts and snakes and ladders
and hoped she might be coaxed outif I let her curiosity do all the
work, let her come over inher own time. As she became more
confident. Now we were playing together. I was the blue token and she

(02:15:52):
was the red. I was doingmy best to lose, but all on
a snake again, I'm afraid,so she huffs and moves herself down two
rows. Have you been here long? I ask? She looks grumpily at
the board. Your turn, shehuffs. I shook up the dice in

(02:16:16):
the cup When I saw you today, was that the first time you'd gone
downstairs? Not the first time yougot four? She picks up my token
one, two, three, four, not on a ladder. My turn.
We can play ludo next if youlike. What's ludo? Haven't you
played ludo? Don't play games much, she says, hugging her knees.

(02:16:43):
When did you get here sometime soon? Where were you before? At home?
Where is home? The house?Mummy and Daddy's house. Where is
mummy and Daddy's house? I gotsix? It's your turns. I throw
the dice again. My lucky streakcontinues. I hit another ladder and there's

(02:17:07):
some more loud hurrumphing. I haveto wait till I hit a snake and
she's gleeful before I press her withmore questions. I can't push her,
but my heart beats fast. Iwas really doing it talking to a ghost.
There was so much I wanted toknow that I needed to know.

(02:17:28):
So how did you come to behere? She ignores me and throws the
dice. Did you come with thelady? What lady? Her name was
Claire, She had straight brown hair. Came because of the bad man,
she says, softly. Who's thebad man? She moves her piece and

(02:17:52):
passes me the dice. Is thatwhy you hide? I ask? Everyone
hid from the bad man? Howmany people lots? I'm on me and
Daddy here She nods her head.How about other grown ups? Are there
many of them? She takes amoment to think. Four more grown ups?

(02:18:18):
So there are seven of you,not counting me and Joey though it's
your turn. Okay, okay.He roll the dice, getting a six
and just missing a snake. Can'twait any longer? Have you met anyone
new since you got here? Ah? Snake again? I don't like this

(02:18:39):
game. She kicks the board andflops over onto her back. Have you
met anyone else since you got here? I met you, she says,
And I try to remain patient.Can't bear this weight. Have you seen
a bald lady? Would her ghostbe bald? The bad lisser in my

(02:19:03):
dreams was bald? Could spectral vanitygrow hair back after death? What were
the rules? The whole physics ofit was baffling. What is bald?
No hair? No? She giggles. I wasn't getting anywhere. I could

(02:19:24):
barely mask my frustration. We hearfootsteps outside. It's only the woman in
room for But little girl leaps offher feet and runs behind the curtain.
What are you doing? I asked. She won't come out. I go
to the curtain, try to pullit aside, but she holds it tight.

(02:19:46):
I tuck it from her, soshe dives under the bed. Hey,
it's just me, just me.I get on all fours so I
can get a proper look at her. She's trembling. It's quite a feeling
seeing a child's shake, terrified fortheir life. It's chilling. Only something

(02:20:07):
truly terrible could do that to her. In playing the games with her,
I'd acted like she was still alive. I was focused only on my goal.
I hadn't taken much time to considerhow she'd died, what the terrible
events were that had killed her.It's only the awful woman sleeping next door.

(02:20:28):
You're safe. Her eyes are fixedon the door. She won't look
at me at all. Who isthe bad man? He knocks on the
door? She whispers, No one'sknocked on the door. It's just me
and you. She won't speak.I lie down flat so I can look

(02:20:50):
directly at her. Well, I'mdoing so I spot something odd. There's
a knife under the bed. Isee the reflection of a blade on the
other side. I wonder how thatgot there. I'd pursue the same strategy
as before. I start to talkand hope she will come out in her
own time. I roll out ontomy back. I've lived here for a

(02:21:13):
long time, now six years.I think a big number, six,
very big number. Listen my wife, she saw it up for sale.
We'd wanted to open a guest houseby the sea. We could take care
of guests in the morning and shecould paint in the afternoon. I wanted
to open up a book shop,but she convinced me there was better money

(02:21:33):
in this, and I'd still beable to read books and do all my
silly things all day. I couldn'ttell if she was listening. We couldn't
find somewhere we could afford, andthen this place showed up and we knew
the area, and she said itwould be like practice. I wasn't getting
through. I ask, what doeshis knock sound like? Can you show

(02:21:56):
me? She finally looks to me. She lifts her hand to the bed
frame and knocks tap tap, tapto tap. When he knocks, you
have to let him in. Whathappens if you don't let him in?
It's worse. Where is mummy?I ask? In her room, but

(02:22:22):
she won't come out. She startsto cry. He's going to hurt me
because I let you in and itwasn't him. I came here on my
own. You never let me in. She keeps on crying. I consider
reaching out and touching her to comforther, but I don't even know that

(02:22:43):
I can touch her. I'm noteven sure she's real. I spot another
knife on my side of the bed, took between the bedside table and the
bed. Did she put them there? I didn't want to get sidetracked.
I wasn't getting anywhere. This wasagonizing. Where is your mummy? I

(02:23:07):
ask? I could talk to her. We can keep you safe. No,
no, she squeals, before puttingher hands over her mouth. She
closes her eyes and tears stream downher face. It's awful. I back
off and just let her cry.She cries for quite a while and just

(02:23:28):
have to wait. She finally doescrawl out from under the bed. I
think again that I may reach outand huger, but the idea is oddly
repulsive. A sort of uncanny effect. She seems real, almost normal.
Yet if I touch her, touchsomething that's dead and not alive. Somehow,

(02:23:52):
that's like crossing a line. Sheacts and seems like she's alive,
so I can pretend it's true,even though I know it's not. To
reach out and touch her. Thatbreaks the spell to be alive and not
alive. My body recoils, pullsme away like a survival instinct to avoid
falling into the uncanny valley. Idon't have time to care about an existential

(02:24:16):
crisis. I just want to speakto Lissa. I want to know what
I need to do. Don't youwant me to speak to your mummy?
I say, my tone more seriousthan before. Her eyes are damp and
red. She shakes her head.Is there someone else? Then? I
asked. He said there were others? She doesn't answer. I suppose the

(02:24:39):
dread impulse is a good thing.I'm able to suppress the urge to shake
her. What about in the otherrooms? Are they in there? I
walk to the door and open it. I make a show of looking from
one side of the hall to theother to show her there's no one there.
She's scared for a moment and divesback under the bed, but I

(02:25:01):
shout to her, get back onmy hands and knees in the hall and
look straight onto the bed to showher it's okay and that I'm safe.
What about here, I point atthe opposite door, the wanter roommate.
You have to knock, she says. So I knock and she shouts no,

(02:25:22):
no, you have to do thespecial knock or they can't let you
in. Slowly, I get tomy knees and then stand. I walk
over to the door and slowly Iknock, tap tap, tap to tap.
I pushed down on the handle andthe door opens. The room hasn't

(02:25:43):
been used in weeks, though itcould be ready for a guest in a
matter of minutes, and the curtainsare open, but the grade ay doesn't
let much light in. In frontof me is a fully grown man.
I've never seen his face before,but he's on his knees, head down,
eyes fixed to the floor, andhe's trembling. Thank you for listening

(02:26:15):
to the New Ghost Stories podcast.If you've enjoyed the podcast and want to
support what I do, please like, comment, or leave a review on
any platform and subscribe to Hear Futurereleases. You can also support the show
by becoming a patron and visiting patreondot com slash New ghost Stories. This
podcast has written, presented, andproduced by David Paul Nixon, and features

(02:26:37):
a guest appearance by Karina Coleia marshA's Joey. And you like to read
more from me, visit my substackNew ghost Stories dot substack dot com and
you can also find me on Instagram, threads mastered on Facebook, and the
website formerly known as Twitter at Newghost Stories Next Time on a New ghost

(02:26:58):
Stories podcast, can of Evil thatWon't Stay Dead be defeated by a man
who thinks he's dead already. Asmy heart rate slows, I concentrate on

(02:27:24):
all that I can hear. Iconcentrate on all that I can hear.

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40 - A Rhythm of Eight part 1

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}40 - A Rhythm of Eight part 1