THE APPOINTMENT: A chilling ghost story of malevolence and death Read online

  THE APPOINTMENT

  Peppi Hilton

  Copyright © 2014 Peppi Hilton

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author Peppi Hilton. The right of Peppi Hilton to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This book is a work of fiction and all the names and characters, unless otherwise quoted as historical fact have been created from the author's imagination and are purely fictional, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and to any places, other than geographical locations, or events, or incidents are purely a work of fiction.

  To

  All my family

  Past and present

  Evil Spirits attach themselves to you

  And all who intervene

  Read at your peril

  1

  THEN:

  The noose was placed around the condemned man's neck, his legs were strapped and the trap door opened. The deed was done. But this was no ordinary hanging - this one danced with the devil. The hangman recalled the triumphant smile on his face and the mocking eyes as he went to his doom, and as he walked away he felt an icy shiver run down his spine...

  AND NOW:

  The day began like any other day, but within just a few hours Kelly's world would be turned upside down and her life would be in jeopardy. It was a crisp and sunny day in January, one of those which lifted the spirits and had prompted Kelly to set off half an hour early to Baileys Estate Agents and Auctioneers where she worked. They occupied a large historic building in the heart of picturesque Skipton, a Georgian market town in Yorkshire labelled ‘The Gateway to the Dales.’ A mediaeval castle and the parish church surveyed the town, which over the years had become very cosmopolitan with its array of Russian, Italian, French, Chinese, Indian, Thai, and Greek restaurants, bistros and tea rooms. Clusters of arts and crafts and specialist shops could be discovered along a maze of narrow curved alleyways and cobbled streets. Many big names had moved in too, placing their stores prominently where they could be seen in the heart of town, and a traditional market was held four days a week. Rides on canal boats were offered daily on the waterways, adding to the attractions and making the quaint and interesting town a draw for tourists.

  Kelly’s apartment overlooked the picturesque canal, and was only a stone’s throw away from where she worked. She could quite easily walk the short journey to work, but transport was essential for her job and so she always had to take her car.

  She wasn’t the first to arrive that morning, Sharon, the Office Manager, was already there, and her short cropped red hair and bespectacled face could be clearly seen through the window of the partitioned office which separated her, and several other members of staff, from the large open-plan space which formed the sales office where Kelly worked with the rest of the team. Housed in an elegant building with a double glass frontage, the staff enjoyed a working environment with views overlooking the busy main street.

  There was a brief exchange of acknowledgement between them both, as Kelly walked across to her own station. Placing her bag on the desk, she withdrew her camera and put it safely in the top drawer, before hanging her jacket on the back of the chair. She tore a page off the desktop calendar to reveal the date – the thirteenth.

  Some people felt superstitious about the number thirteen. In fact, some property developers went as far as numbering a property out of sequence, before they would give it its rightful number - if it happened to be thirteen - for fear of the property not selling. But Kelly had no such misconception. In her mind, superstition belonged to the feeble-minded, the over-imaginative people who would rather believe in the impossible, than believe in nothing at all. They were gullible in the extreme, usually believing in many common old wives tales, such as: if they walked under a ladder evil would befall them, or if they put a pair of shoes on the table bad luck would follow them around - and woe-betide if they smashed a mirror, they would be doomed to bad luck for seven years before the spell could be broken. Witches, Ghouls, Ghosts, Mediums, and all things supernatural, had no place in her life. They belonged in cinemas and on television, and in books, targeting those who had insufficient intelligence to read or watch anything which could tax the intellect. Unscrupulous rogues were making millions out of those credulous types, who succumbed far too readily to the traps set for them in the world of exploitation. No there was none of that baloney for her.

  Many of the common things which troubled others, didn’t concern Kelly either. In particular, she had no fear of walking around graveyards in the dead of night - on the contrary, she was rather fascinated at reading the headstones of people who had passed through this life, wondering who they could have been and what kind of life they had lived; and the dead of night offered peace and tranquillity, which she found therapeutic. Neither was there any of that spiritual nonsense for Kelly, she was too seriously grounded and level-headed, and did not let her imagination run out of control, which is why she was particularly suited to her work.

  Her job at the estate agents was to photograph the properties which the agency had been appointed to sell or to auction, as well as managing the website. She was an important and valued member of the team and an asset to the company - and Kelly loved every aspect of her job. She had good navigational skills, so driving to remote locations alone - which she often had to do - did not worry her at all, particularly with the aid of the Satellite Navigation System in her new Mini Countryman. But for her, the icing on the cake was being able to visit all the different types of properties which came onto their books, because her passion for property had begun in her early childhood. As a child, Kelly had been fiercely independent, spirited, and had an inquiring mind. Sharp and intelligent, she never allowed anything to slip her notice. As an only child, she did tend to be over-indulged by her doting parents, who, whilst not wealthy, were comfortably off financially. Her father was a civil engineer, and her artistic mother was a renowned cartoonist. Kelly’s childhood was a happy one, and the envy of many of her school friends.

  As others began to arrive, the first to greet her was Charlene the Sales Administrator. A thirty-six-year-old thoughtful and friendly character - although somewhat inquisitive with an ear for gossip - she was always happy to lend a helping hand. She was all of six feet tall and with an athletic build. Her long thick auburn hair which framed her face and fell naturally in curls around her shoulders, toned down her size by drawing the emphasis to her deep brown eyes and high cheek bones, which were her most striking features.

  “Good-morning – and what a wonderful morning it is.” Looking across at Kelly: “You got here early didn’t you?”

  “Yes I did,” Kelly replied, as she rummaged through her in-tray. “The sun was streaming through my window this morning, so I couldn’t resist an early start.” She looked across at Charlene and smiled. “Just shows what a good influence the weather can have on us all.”

  “Perhaps we’ll have an early spring,” Charlene replied gaily.

  “Hmm, you’re being a little optimistic for the time of year aren’t you?” Kelly smiled. “But you never know - maybe we will. We can all live in hope can’t we?” Kelly’s upbeat tone together with Charlene’s enthusiasm, and their regular daily banter, often got the day off to a good start, creating an enjoyable working atmosphere throughout the office.

&
nbsp; At that point Evelyn the boss walked in. Her office was down the corridor away from everyone else. She was a likeable sort, heavy build, early fifties and although she was the boss she treated everyone the same. All the employees who worked in sales were female, nothing deliberate, it had just happened that way - although it was unusual in the Estate Agency business. There was a pleasant and friendly atmosphere at work. Everyone got on with their own job, whilst still willing to help a hand to anyone with a bigger workload.

  Evelyn greeted everyone cheerily before walking over to Kelly’s desk carrying a folder.

  “I have an assignment here for you Kelly.” She passed her the file. “I want you to go to The Grange, it’s about a forty minute drive from here - but allow an hour if you’re unfamiliar with the road. We need a special on this one. It’s going up for auction.”

  Kelly knew that a special meant a good hard sell, either because it was a pretty important client, or it was a property which needed some special attention - and that could be for a variety of reasons.

  “You’re to meet Mr Midgley there this morning at ten o’clock sharp. He’s one of the trustees. It’s been in probate for years. You’ll find all the information in there. I think you ought to know that this particular mansion was abandoned years ago, and it’s in a dilapidated state and crumbling…” Evelyn looked at Kelly thoughtfully for a moment. “You may prefer to take someone with you Kelly, I’m sure Charlene can find time to break off what she’s doing.” She gestured across at Charlene, who returned the look with a nod of enthusiastic agreement.

  “It’s not dangerous is it - or a Health and Safety hazard perhaps?” asked Kelly, looking a little bemused. It wasn’t like Evelyn to suggest she take a companion.

  “No it’s been passed. It’s sound enough but …”

  Kelly looked at her questioningly.

  “… it’s just that - well, the property’s been empty for a long time, and it’s also hidden deep in the forest of Uplands.”

  “Well I’ve been to plenty of those, haven’t I? Honestly Evelyn, it’s not a problem. I’ll be fine. Anyway, if Mr Midgley is going to be there, I’m not exactly going to be alone, if that’s what’s worrying you.” Kelly shrugged it off. She couldn’t see why it was such a big deal.

  “I’m not worried. I know you’re quite capable Kelly – you’ve more than proven that. But …”

  “But what?” asked Kelly, sensing Evelyn’s hesitance.

  “It’s in such an isolated place that I thought you should be aware; it’s not exactly the norm, so I decided to ask you anyway.” Evelyn left it at that and breezed out of the office. She halted at the door, calling back jovially before making her exit: “Nice day for taking photos.”

  Kelly appreciated Evelyn’s concern - albeit unnecessary. But there was always an unwritten safety code, a rule of conduct, in the estate agency business, particularly with young women visiting empty properties alone.

  When she opened the file it contained a floor plan, a description, and an aerial-view image of the whole estate. Kelly recognised it immediately, and was stunned for a moment. For many years she had been strangely fascinated with that particular property and she knew exactly where it was.

  Although she had seen it many times, it was only from a distance, but there was no need for Evelyn to be concerned. Whilst The Grange could only be accessed across a wild and remote moorland landscape, it was no different from driving to the majority of the-run down and derelict farms which she often had to visit, across the length and breadth of the Yorkshire Dales. It was her job. She often visited unused barns and outbuildings which were ripe for development and the wild Yorkshire moors had never deterred her. That was one of the many reasons she had progressed in the company: because her confidence was strong and had never let her down. It was a piece of cake – and a very tasty one at that.

  It wasn’t long before the estate agency began to get busy. Customers were browsing the shelves in search of property brochures, and the telephones began to ring. Keyboards clicked, and there was a buzz about everything as each person got on with their job.

  Kelly checked through the paperwork and ran her mind through the directions whilst she prepared her camera. Although the drive to The Grange was remote and lonely, once you had passed it by, the small village of Lunt was only a short distance away. In comparison, it was a picture-postcard village, which had a large duck pond at its centre which could be clearly seen when passing through. There was a mediaeval church, a village hall, a manor house, and a couple of farmsteads. Otherwise, besides a cluster of cottages and barn conversion, it had little else.

  The Grange was about three miles ahead of Lunt, sitting in an elevated position on the top of a hill and surrounded by its own sprawling acres of land and dense forest. The property itself was shrouded by trees and could hardly be seen as it looked down mysteriously onto the road below. The tips of its four castellated towers and tall chimneys were all that were visible above the tree tops, making it tantalisingly aloof – whilst at the same time threatening. Even from such a distant height it could look dark and foreboding. The masses of trees stood like sentries, as if strategically placed to warn off visitors and intruders alike. It was unlikely to tempt even the hardiest of people to venture near.

  Over the years Kelly had lost count of the number of times she had parked her car, trying her hardest to see if she could catch a better glimpse of the elusive mansion. Many times resorting to binoculars. But no matter how persistently she tried, it would not give up its secrets. It had remained there in solitary shadow, for as long as she had known of its existence.

  She did try to quiz the old locals from the village once, hoping she would learn more about its past, but they refused to comment about it. When she had asked around, she had been greeted with unfriendliness, and doors were slammed in her face. Kelly knew their hesitance was generated out of fear – after all, most people find ancient houses and isolated positions scary, so it was as she expected. But when she approached the younger, more recent residents - contrary to what she had anticipated, they had almost shooed her out of their homes. She finally gave up trying to satisfy her curiosity, and over a period of time it had become a forgotten quest – until now.

  “You’re not going to the Grange are you?” asked a squeaky voice belonging to Phoebe – everyone called her Fee for short. She ventured closer. “You wouldn’t get me anywhere near that place!”

  “Oh and why’s that?’ Kelly asked, whilst giving her camera a final check.

  “Because it’s creepy that’s why.”

  “You’ve probably never seen it.”

  “I don’t want to!” Fee blurted out, visibly shuddering at the thought. “It’s been standing empty for years. It has a reputation!”

  Kelly laughed gently and asked: “A reputation? What on earth does that mean?” She glanced at Fee’s jittery demeanour and had to bow her head to hide her amusement.

  “I don’t know exactly.” Fee’s voice was increasing in altitude.

  “Well there you are then,” Kelly said, reassuringly.

  “It’s just that - well everyone knows that …” but she trailed off anxiously.

  Everyone knew that Phoebe was of a nervous disposition, she was the youngest member of staff and prone to wild imaginings. She was a would-be-novelist who had not yet succeeded in being taken seriously. Plump and with a round open face which showed every expression and emotion, Phoebe lived within herself and her own imaginary little world.

  “Well everyone knows nothing.” Kelly gave her a friendly squeeze of the shoulder. “I can’t wait to see it. I’ve been longing to go up there for years, never dreaming that one day I would. Now my chance is here I can hardly believe it.”

  Fee shrank back to her own desk like a frightened little mouse. But finally she plucked up the courage to cry out: “Well don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

  Kelly never felt ruffled by Fee in fact she was the one and only member of staff who to
lerated her ramblings without feeling any effect. She was secretly quite fond of her and her quirky ways, whilst everyone else treated her like the village idiot. But after gathering her belongings together and heading for the door, she couldn’t resist one last mischievous retort.

  “If I haven’t returned by lunchtime – sound the alarm and send out the search party.”

  She chuckled to herself whilst closing the door behind her as she left in high spirits.

  2

  At the age of twenty eight, Kelly had fulfilled her lifetime ambition to work in the property business. She had inherited the brains and good looks of her Swedish ancestors from her father’s maternal side, given credence by her long blonde hair and blue eyes. She stood five feet eight inches tall and although she was slim, she had the right attributes in the right places.

  Her obsession with property began from the earliest days of her childhood, almost from the time she was able to read and write. She would scour the property pages of her father’s leftover newspapers, and during their family travels she would constantly make reference to properties which she saw of interest. But her passion had always been, first and foremost, for older houses. Her mother had told her that her innate curiosity for property, at such an early age, had come from the paternal side of her own family - the Sutcliffes. Her ancestors had been builders, developers, and property owners for more than a century - and landowners before that. Unfortunately Kelly’s family didn’t inherit their wealth. That had long since been frittered away by the last of the line - a distant cousin who had turned out to be a drunken bachelor and playboy.