Free MAGDALENA'S GHOST: THE HAUNTING OF THE HOUSE IN GALLOWS LANE by PEPPI HILTON Page A

an attempt to soothe her bones and dull her senses. And for a while it worked. The burning embers of the fire cast a warm, but eerie glow in the small, cold scullery where no natural light could get in; but she soon felt comfy and warm as the blanket kept the draughts firmly at bay and she began to doze lightly.
    But her peace was soon to be shattered. Whilst Beryl was in a semi-conscious state, the rocking chair was turned over abruptly and she fell hard onto the cold stone floor, bringing her harshly to her senses. She could hear the piano playing in the next room, and once again she was riddled with fear as she lay rigid on the floor. But when a warped mind is filled with terror an inner strength takes control, and so she managed to drag herself up. The sound of the music increased until it began to ring in her ears. She groped around in the dark until she found a small stub of a candle which she managed to light from the fire, whilst burning her hands in the process. She held it upright until the flame strengthened, before making her way to the sitting room where the sounds were coming from. But as she reached the doorway someone blew out the candle and Beryl shrieked in alarm. The cat mewed in front of her and she kicked it out of the way; it screeched as it disappeared from the room in a blind panic.
    Beryl remained in one spot whilst she waited for her eyes to become accustomed to the dark, her body shaking in fear. The music sounded louder and the tune was clearly recognisable as the one that Billy had played for mother. She was riddled with horror at the thought of what she was about to witness. But as the darkness became lighter to her eyes, she was pushed to the floor from behind. She began to scream in terror as she struggled to drag her panic-stricken body off the floor; but when she finally got to her feet the music suddenly stopped. But to add to her alarm, doors were flinging themselves open and slamming shut again. Windows rattled and the sound of laughter ripped through the building. But it wasn’t the normal sound of laughter it was a sinister, curdling sound which echoed hollowly throughout the house. But despite the change in tone, she instantly recognised the voice as that of her mother.
    Without hesitation Beryl fumbled through the dark and headed for the front door. She slid the bolts open, turned the key in the lock and fled into the black night. Gaining unknown strength from somewhere, she ran into Gallows Lane and shrieked loudly. She headed for the old pub where a small light reflected from one of the windows, her senses to the pain of her arthritic bones numbed as the panic took control.
    The barman saw a half-witted woman enter the room, her clothes in disarray and her grey, ragged hair standing on end. Her face was terror-stricken, her eyes wild and her speech garbled and senseless. An old man was standing at the corner of the bar across the room, and as he slowly sipped on his beer his faded blue eyes stared at her curiously.
    The barman intuitively drew a whisky and placed it in front of her.
    “Here drink that,” he said calmly.
    She drank it back and felt the liquid warm the back of her throat. It didn’t take long for the effects of the drink to calm her down a little. Her hands were still shaking and the barman noticed her bent fingers, and instantly recognised the dreaded arthritis to be the culprit. The older man continued to sip at his beer as he stared at her, but he offered no solace.
    “It’s my mother,” she managed to utter almost inaudibly. “She’s come back – she’s possessed the cat in order to haunt me. The cat has become a medium for her to communicate through.”
    Her voice gained momentum as her demeanour became more feverish. Even in her state of fright, she was sufficiently astute to push the glass towards the barman and motion for him to refill it; which he did whilst she continued with her crazed story.
    He listened intently and so did the old man from across