Burton s h Six Ghost Stories

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Contents

page

Introduction

V

Room 7

1

Mrs Mrs Wood Comes Home Hom e

6

A Ghost in the Garden

11

Roge Ro gerr Winga Wi ngate’ te’ss New Ne w Car

18

A Friend of the Family

26

A Birthday Card for Mrs Rogers

35

Activities

40

















R o om 7 Perhaps you d o n ’t believe in ghosts. I’m I’m n o t sure sure that them . I’m I’m n o t sure that I saw a gh ost tha t nigh t. B ut

I be b e lie li e v e in if Id id n ’t see

a ghost, what did I see? I was returning from a business trip to the north. I lived near London then. It was winter. The roads were covered with ice, and I had to drive slowly and carefully I was still a long way from ho m e w he n it got dark. dark. T h e n m y car light lightss began to fai fail. It It was was too dangerou s to st stay on th e m ain road. I tur n ed o ff into a quiet country road. After a few kilometres I saw a road sign — M illh il lham. am. Five m inutes later 1 was drivin g a lon g a narrow street. street. T he re were a few shops with bright lights, and I could see a garage at the end o f the stre street et.. I stopped there and explained explained my p rob lem . T h e m a n looked at my car lights. ‘I’l ‘I’ll rep air th em in the m o rn in g ,’ he said. said. 'Is 'Is the re a h o te l in M illha m ?’ I asked. asked. ‘T h e re ’s The Goat at th e top o f the street,’ lie said. said. ‘W e d o n ’t have have man y visitor visitorss in M illham in the w inter. Tell Tell M r R ichards I sent you. H e ’ll lo ok after yo u.’

















I thank thank ed him and too k m y suitc suitcas asee ou t o f the car car. T he n I walked back up the street to The Goat. It was was an old b uilding. T h e hotel offi office ce was was jus t inside inside th e front door. A big m an came through an oth er d oo r at the back o f the offic officee and sm iled iled at me in a friendly way. ‘M r R ich ar ds ?’ I asked. asked. ‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Can I help you?’ I explained that my car was at the garage.‘I need a meal and a ro o m for th e nig ht,’ I said. aid. ‘T h e meal isn’t isn’t a prob lem ,’ he sa id .‘D .‘D in n er will be ready in an ho ur. Bu t this is is a small small hotel. W e’ve e’ve o nly g ot six be dro om s, and they’re all full.’ The door opened again, and a little woman walked quickly into the room. ‘This is m y wife, wife,’’ R icha rds e xplained. H e tu rn ed to he r and sa id ,‘I ,‘I was tellin g o u r visitor th at w e ’re ful fulll to n ig h t, Liz. Liz. His car’s car’s at the garage, and he wants dinner and a bed for the night.’ ‘T h e re ’s R o o m 7, Tom ,’ she said said.. ‘B u t w e d o n ’t .. . ’ he beg an. ‘W e c an ’t sen d h im away on a n ig h t like like this,’ his w ife s a id .‘I’l .‘I’ll make the bed in Room 7.’ ‘I’m giving you trouble, I’m afraid,’ I said. ‘It’s no trouble, M r . . . ?’ ‘Saunders,’I said.‘I’m John Saunders.’ ‘It’s no trouble, M r Saunders. W e d o n ’t use use R o o m 7 m uch. T h er e’s e’s n o thin g w ron g w ith it.’ it.’ She gave gave her h usba nd a look look w h en she said said that. He did n ’t rep reply ly.. R o o m 7 was was on the top floor floor,, above the the oth er bedroo m s. It felt elt quite cold, but there was an electric fire.

















cupboard was a big, straight-backed chair. I washed, and the n w en t dow n to dinne r. I enjoyed my meal and then I w en t to the bar. bar. I talked talked to R ichards and some o f his friends until I began to feel sleepy. ‘I think I’ll go up to bed now,’ I said. ‘G oo dn igh t, then, M r Sau nders,’ R ichards said said.. ‘I ho pe y ou ’ll be b e c o m f o r ta b le . S leep le ep w ell! el l!’’ ♦ 1 d o n ’t kn ow how long I slept slept.. So m ething w oke m e. It It wasn’t wasn’t a noise noise.. T h e

bed room

was was qu iet, bu t som ething stran strange ge was was

happ ening. T h e light light on my b edside table table wasn’t wasn’t on, bu t part o f the room was slowly becoming light. My bed was in the dark. I co uld n’t n’t see see the cup boa rd o r the w ashbasin, ashbasin, b u t I co uld see see the big b ig c h a ir. ir . I c o u ld see se e its seat se at,, its a rm s , its legs le gs a n d its tall, tal l, s tra tr a ig h t ba b a c k . It was wa s s h in i n g a t m e o u t o f t h e d ark. ar k. I closed m y eyes eyes tightly. tightly. I d id n ’t feel feel afraid. N o t th en . Fear cam e later. later. N o, I w asn ’t afra afraid; id; b u t I w an ted to th in k a nd to sh ut out that strange light. ‘I drea m t it!’ I th o u g h t.‘O t.‘O f course! I drank to o m uc h in the bar after dinner and I was dreaming.’ I de cide d to c ou nt slowl slowly y up to fifty fifty and the n to op en my eyes eyes again. ‘For Forty, forty-on e. . . ’ I was was cou nting the num bers very very sl slowl owly w he n I heard it. it. Som ebod y was brea thing in the room . This was was no t a d ream . A thief, thief, perhaps? perhaps? I opened my eyes. Now a man was sitting in the chair. He was old, and he had white hair, but he was sitting up straight. His b r i g h t eyes ey es w e r e lo o k i n g a t m e . I tried to speak, bu t

110

words came. I wanted to say, ‘W ho are are

you? W ha t are you do ing he re?’ B ut I co uld n’t n’t. I told m yself no t to be afraid. He was too old to hurt me. But his eyes were

















He lifted his left hand and pointed his finger at me. Now his eyes eyes w ere v ery sad, sad, and sud denly I w asn’t asn’t afraid afraid o f him . W he n he spoke, his voice was tired. ‘I ne ve r kn ew ,’ he said. said. ‘B u t yo u do.’ His ha nd drop ped . Suddenly, Suddenly, I co uld speak. ‘W h at d o I kn ow ?’ I a sk e d. ‘W ho are are you you?? W hat. . . ? ’ Before Before I could com plete plet e the question, he —and the light —disappeared.

A voice w oke me. ‘H ere ’s a cup o f tea, tea, M r Saunders. Your b

k fa st

ill il l b

d

in h l f

h

’ Ri h

d

t th

te



















I th o u g h t a bo ut m y strange visitor. visitor. D id I dream it all? I decided no t to w orry M r and M rs Richards Richards with a m ystery ystery that they c o u ld n ’t solv solve. e. I ha d my brea kfas t.Then t.Then I went into the hotel office to pay my bill. bi ll. M rs R i c h a r d s was wa s s itt it t in g a t t h e desk de sk.. She smiled and gave me the bill.‘Did bill. ‘Did you sleep well?’ 1 look ed u p to answer answer her. her. I saw saw a picture on the wall be hin d her. her. T h e w hite hair, hair, the stron g face face an d the b rig h t eyes eyes were terribly familiar to me. I po in ted at the p ic tu re .‘W .‘W h o ’s that?’ 1 aske asked. d. She l oo ke d at the p ictu re an d tur ne d bac k quickly. quickly. ‘It’s It’s T om ’s father. He lived with us here at The Goat. He died five years ago in the ro o m th at you slept in in last night. T h a t’s t’s w hy Tom did n ’t want you to have ha ve R o o m 7.’ ‘B ut you. . . ’ I stopped. She was speaking speaking again. again. ‘T he re were some silly stories stories ab out R o o m 7, M r Saunders,’ Saunders,’ she said.‘One or two nervous visitors thought that the room was ha un ted . A gh ost isn’t isn’t g oo d fo r a hote l, so so T om ’s fath er d ecide d to sleep sleep there. He di d n ’t believe in ghosts. So he w en t up to bed at his usual time, but ‘Yes? Yes?’’ I sa id .‘W .‘W h a t ha pp en ed ?.’ ‘I to ok tea up for him th e ne xt m ornin g,’ she said.‘A said.‘A nd I foun d him in that b ig chair —cold a nd dead. O f course, he was was an an old m an. H is h ea rt ju st fail failed ed suddenly.’ suddenly.’ I pi ck ed u

‘M rs R ich

ds

’ I said. said.

















M rs rs W o od od C o m e s H o m e I alw alway ayss w e n t to Po rch ester fo r m y holidays. It’s It’s a q u iet little little tow n, ful fulll o f interesting old bu ildings, and I was stud stud yin g its its history. I’m I’m n o t a rich m an a nd I ca n ’t stay stay in ho tels, b u t Jack Jack Thompson invited me to stay in his pretty little house in Fore Street. He and I were at school together. I had some very happy t i mes with h im and h is wi wiff e, Annie, until. until. . .

until until Mrs Wood

came home. That year, I went to Porchester as usual. It was a fine spring afterno on w h en I arri arrived. ved. W e w en t for for a walk and I took ph p h o t o g r a p h s o f t h e c h u r c h . T h a t n i g h t a f ter te r su p p e r, w e sat sa t ta lk in g by t h e fire fi resi sid d e. ‘Tell me all the news,’ I said. Jack sm ile d .‘Lif .‘Lifee moves very slowly here, Bill Bill,’ ,’ he sa id .‘W .‘W e’ve e’ve go t a new do cto r —D —D r W arren —if —if that interes interests ts you .’ ‘Everything about Porchester interests me,’ I said. ‘Tell me more.’ ‘Mrs Wood has gone away,’Annie said. ‘M rs W oo d? ’ I sa id.‘W id.‘W h er e did she live?’ live?’ A nnie smiled at me. ‘In th e ho use acro across ss the street. T h e on e w ith the big tree in front o f the w indo w s. Sh e’s e’s very old. She

















w as very ver y rude to you. y ou. R em em ber? ’ ‘We ag reed n o t to talk ab o ut tha t again,’ again,’ said said A nnie. ‘Ju J u st befo re Christmas, Bill, she went to stay with her son in Australia. I always felt sorry for her.’ ‘I feel feel s or ry for h er son ,’ Jack said. said. ‘It ‘It w o n ’t be ve ry nice for him w ith th at old wo m an in his his hou se. B ut I ho pe she st stays w ith him for ever ever.. I d o n ’t wa nt h er back here.’ here.’ I could see that they were both becoming angry. I was surprised. B ut I aske asked d abou t th e ne w doctor, and w e did n’t n’t tal talk k about Mrs Wood again. I w en t to b ed qu ite earl early, y, b u t I co u ld n ’t sleep. sleep. I was th in ki ng abou t Jack and A nnie. nnie. W hy were they so so angry ab ou t M rs Wood? A nnie was, I tho ug ht, as as an gry as Jack. B ut she was try in g to hide her feelings. I got o ut o f bed, w ent to the w indo w an d look ed across oss the street street at at M rs W ood ’s house. T h e m oo n was was shining b rightly and I could see the front of the house clearly. The leaves of the big tree moved slowly in the wind. T here were curtains curtains at the the w indow s. T he house didn ’t look look empty.‘Are empty. ‘Are yo u stil stilll there, Mrs W oo d? ’ I tho ug ht . T he n I saw saw the curtain at one o f the upstai upstairs rs windo w s move. move. Mrs Wood was watching me! I tur ne d away away from from the w ind ow and jum p ed into bed. I lay there in the dark and felt very, very frightened. Slowly, I grew calmer. ‘You were wrong!’ I said to myself. ‘You

































I felt elt tired tired and unhap py w he n I wo ke up the n ex t m orning. M y ho liday was starting badly badly.. I washed and dressed. dressed. T h en I opened m y bedroo m window. I took took a pho tograph o f Mrs W oo d’s d’s ho use before I w en t downstairs. Jack was alo ne in th e ki tch en . ‘W h a t’s t’s the m atte r? ’ he aske asked. d. ‘You look tired.’ ‘I d id n ’t sleep ver y well.’ ‘A nn ie ha d b ad dream s, too ,’ h e said. said. ‘S he ’s stayin g in bed. She was dreaming about that old woman who lived across the road.' We did n ’t talk talk m uch w hile w e ate. ate. After breakfast, I said, ‘W hy did you get angry las lastt night w hen you were talking about Mrs Wood?’ ‘A nn ie tr ie d to help her,’ her,’ he said slowly.‘She slowly. ‘She went shopping for her, her, an d o ften coo ked for her. She sat sat and talked to her. O r she sat sat and listened to to her. her. T he old w om an prefer preferss to talk, talk, no t list listen. en.’’ ‘D id yo u go across the re w ith A nn ie? ’ I asked. asked. ‘No,’ he said. said. ‘I nev er liked her. O n e day A nn ie cam e back, look ing tired and ill. I aske asked d h er w ha t was was w rong. M rs W oo d was was very ve ry rude to her, he r, and frightened frightened he r. . . Annie never w ent ther theree agai again. n. She co u ld n ’t forget forget . . . ’ Ja ck ’s sto ry w asn ’t very clear, clear, b u t I u nd er sto od the general m eaning. T h e old w om an kn ew that Jack d idn ’t like like her. Jack is is a good, kind man, but she hated him. She didn’t listen to Annie. ‘Y ou ’re as ba d as y ou r h us ba nd ,’ she sh ou ted at her. ‘I’l I’ll get you b o t h o u t o f y o u r h o u s e .’



















-

throug h their front w indo w at M rs W oo d’s d’s house. A nd each each night, from my bedroom, I thought I saw her face at her window. I was glad when my holiday finished. Now I could escape from Porchester. A few days after I got home, the postman delivered my holiday ph p h o t o g r a p h s . U sual su ally ly,, I e n jo y e d l o o k i n g a t t h e m . B u t this th is tim ti m e I was afraid to open the packet. A t las lastt I op en ed it. it. Sl Slow owly ly,, I searched thro ug h the p ho tograp hs. T he n 1 fo un d the o ne that I feared feared to se see. T he re it was was —the —the ph oto g rap h o f M rs W oo d’s d’s hous e. I felt felt sic sick. k. Everything was clear and bright —the garden, the tree, the front door. An d, at an upstairs upstairs windo w , an old w o m an ’s face face wa was looking through the glass! I was was holding the ph otog raph w hen the d oo r o f my Hat He Hew open. Jack ran ran into the room . 1 tried to hide hide the ph otograp h, but he pulled pulled it ou t o f my hand. ‘T here she she is is,’ he said.‘ said.‘T ha t. . . thing . . . is is Mrs W ood.’ ‘B ut, Jack Ja ck , th a t’s t’s no n o t possible. S h e’s e’s a lo n g way away ...’ He stopped me. I shall never forget his words or the terrible look on his face as he spoke.

















A Ghost in the Garden

I w ork ed h ard in th e city al all my life. life. T h en , w h en I was was sixty sixty year yearss old, I de cide d to stop stop.. 1 w an ted to live in the co un try, w ith a big garden where I could grow flowers and vegetables. My wife agreed. She was born in the country and wanted a quiet life. So we started to look for a house. We travell travelled ed a lon g way to lo ok at houses. houses. W h e n w e saw saw a For sign, we stopped. stopped. B ut no ne o f the the buildings buildings pleased pleased us. us. We Sale sign, searched for months and became very tired. At last, we found the house of our dreams. In a small village, about eighty kilometres from the city, we discovered Samways. N o b o d y w as liv li v in g th e r e , a n d i t w a s j u s t r i g h t f o r us. It was wa s b u ilt il t o f stone. stone. It was was warm , sunny a nd com fortable. fortable. Be twe en the front o f the ho use and the qu iet village village street street was was a lit littl tlee g arden. At the ba b a c k t h e r e w as a b i g g e r g a r d e n , fu ll o f f r u i t tre tr e e s a n d flo fl o w e rs. rs . We moved into Samways in the late spring. It was an old house and it ne ed ed a lot o f w ork. W e bo ug ht table ables, s, chair chairs, s, cupboards cupboards

















The garden was wild when we arrived. But we worked hard, and by th e end o f August, o u r garden was was almost as as beautiful beautiful as as our house. One afternoon in September, I was working alone in the garden. My wife was in the house, making some tea. I heard her cal cal ling to to m e through the o pen w indow o f the livingliving-room. room. ‘H en ry,’ she called. ‘Te a’s a’s read y an d w e ’ve g o t a visitor. F ath er Barnes has come to see us.’ F ath er Barn es was the village village priest. This was his first first visit visit to to ou r house. house. ‘I ’m glad th a t yo u ’ve c om e,’ I said. said. ‘It’s It’s a be au tiful old h ouse,’ the pr iest an sw ered .‘Ev .‘Ev ery bo dy in the village village is is pleased th at y o u ’re livin g he re. Y ou ’re m ak ing a wonderful difference to the house and garden.’ ‘T h an k yo u,’ I said .‘W .‘W he n w e ’ve ha d tea, yo u m ust have a look at the big garden at the back.’ ‘I’d I’d like to do tha t,’ he an sw ered . ‘I’m I’m v er y inte res ted in gardens. But I don’t get much time to work in mine.’ ‘You m ust be busy, busy,’’Joa n s aid .‘D .‘D o you visit visit m ost p eo ple in the village?’

















the c ou n try a house is often given the name o f its builder. Elija Elijah h Samways Samways built yo ur ho use m ore than 200 year yearss ago. ago. H e was was a rich man, and he built it for himself.’ ‘Did he have a family?’ I asked. ‘N o,’ Fa the r Barnes said. said. ‘H e lived lived here alone, w ith o u t wife o r children. He had one old servant —a man.’ ‘W h a t h a p p e n e d w h e n h e d ie i e d ?’ ? ’Joan asked. ‘His h ou se w as sold, sold,’’ Fa the r Barnes said said.. ‘N o b o d y w ith his his nam e has lived lived here sinc sincee the n. Bu t no w y ou ’ve b o u g h t his his hou se and its name is still Samways.T Samways. T h a t’s t’s q ui te nice, isn ’t it?’ We agreed that it w as.Then I remem bered something. ‘W e’ve e’ve g o t o ne oth er big jo b in th e garden,’ garden,’ I said.‘Lo said.‘Lo ok at this this tree.’ tree.’ I p o in te d at a big tree n ea r the wall wall o f the house. Its Its branc hes were nearl nearly y touch ing ou r bedroom windo win dow. w. ‘W e’l e’ll have to cu t it d ow n,’ I said. said. ‘It ’s to o ne ar th e hou se. It will be dangerous when the winter winds come.’ Before Before Fa ther Barnes cou ld repl reply, y, Joan sp ok e.‘ e.‘O h , no , Hen ry,’ she said.‘W e’ve e’ve talked talked ab ou t this before.’ before.’ She tu rn ed to the priest. priest. ‘Tell Tell hi m th a t h e ’s w ro n g, Fath er. I t’s t’s a beau tifu l, he alt hy tree. It’s It’s wrong to cut it down.’

















and listened listened to music. music. At nig ht, we had ou r evening meal and went to bed early. Sometimes during the day, I put on my raincoat an d w en t into the garden. I co uld n’t n’t do any w ork there, b u t I w a t c h e d t h e b ig tre tr e e . I n t h e s tr o n g w i n d t h e b r a n c h e s looked like like arms m oving high above above my head. T he y seem ed to send a message to me, b u t I co u ld n ’t read th eir sign signs. s. O ne day I stoo stoo d o ut there lo ng er than usual usual,, and Joa n calle called d to m e from f rom the b ou se.‘Henry! se.‘Henry! W ha t are are you d oing ou t there in the t he rain?’ ‘I’m I’m co m in g, dear,’ I answ ered . But before I returned to the house, I climbed up the tree. I cut the two branches that were near our bedroom window. Father Barnes was rig ht, I thou gh t. T h e tree was was stron stron g and healt healthy. hy. There was no need to cut it down. But I felt safer when those br b r a n c h e s w e re sh o r te r . I told Jo an an d she sm iled at me. ‘I’m ‘I’m so glad tha t you agree, Hen ry,’ she sa id .‘No .‘No w, take of f y ou r w et coat.’ coat.’ At the the end of Nov em ber, the w inte r storms storms go t worse. We la lay in bed at nig h t and listened listened to the m . We fe fell asleep asleep at las lastt with the sound of the the w ind in ou r ears ears A nd w hen we were sleeping, sleeping, it was was



















I got ou t o f b e d .‘I’ .‘I’lll go d ow n to the k itchen a nd make you a h o t drin k ,’ I sa id .‘Y .‘Y ou ’re to o ne rv ou s to sleep sleep..’ Before I could op en th e b ed ro om door, she she called called to m e. ‘I’m com ing too, H enry. D o n ’t leav leavee m e here. here. Listen!’ Listen!’ And this time I heard it. K n o c k . . . k n o c k . . . k n o ck ck . There, at the bedroom window. Slow, heavy knocks. Loud eno ugh to hear above above the soun d o f the wind. Knock ... knock ... knock. I m oved towards the w indow . T h e n I stopp stopp ed. I was afr afrai aid d to to pu p u ll b a c k t h e c u r ta in s . I w as a fr a id to l o o k t h r o u g h t h e w in d o w . W hile I stoo d there, Jo an spo ke a g ai n .‘It .‘It ’s all rig ht , Hen ry,’ she she said . ‘I kn ow w h at it is.Th is.Th ose long branches branches are are kn oc kin g agai against nst the window in the wind.’ But the branches were too short to reach the window now.

































‘H ow ?’ I ask ed.‘Yo ed.‘You u seem to k n ow som ething abo ut the m an, so please please tell tell us. us. If If this this terrible th in g h appens again, we w o n ’t be able to stay in this house.’ ‘I think I can solve the mystery,’ he said. ‘Elijah Samways lived here w ith on e old servant. servant. I told y ou that, bu t I d id n ’t tell tell yo u the rest rest o f th e story. story. O n e nigh t, thieves killed Elijah Samways and stole stole al all his his m oney. T h e thieves w ere n ever ca ught. T he old servant servant,, R o b e rt Fores Foreste ter, r, was was accused o f letting letting th em into the house. “I’m innocent!” he said. “I was asleep all night.” But no bod y believed believed him. H e was was a p o o r old old man w ith no famil family y and and no friends friends,, and . . . and they hang ed h im in thi thiss garden, from a br b r a n c h o f t h e b ig tre tr e e. T h e y h a n g e d an i n n o c e n t m a n .’ ‘You believ e th at h e was inn o ce n t? ’ I asked asked.. ‘I do now. I believe that he was w rong ly accu sed,’ said the

















R oger W ingate’s ingate’s N ew Car Car ‘H ow m uc h? ’ he aske asked. d. T h e answer surprised and pleased pleased R oge r. T h e car was big, but the price was low. ‘A n d i t’s t’s o n ly a ye ar o ld? ’ h e said. said. ‘T h a t’s t’s righ t,’ said said th e m an at the

garage. garage. ‘O n e yea r old. We

know the m an w ho ow ned it. We sold sold it i t to t o him. No w w e’r e’r e selli selling ng it for him . H e ’s decid ed to stop driving. W e’ve e’ve lo ok ed after after it sinc e it w as n ew . It ’s a go g o o d car. A t this p ric e, it ’s a very good car.’ R o g e r t h o u g h t h a r d .The . The garage man was right. It was a good car and the price was very, very good.

















He had to stop at the traffic lights because they were red. He listened happily to the music on the car radio. Su dd enly his heart ju m p ed . A vo ice spoke very quietl quietly. y. It was — or it seem ed to be —a w o m a n ’s voice. voice. ‘T ur n rig h t h ere,’ it said said.. For a minute, Roger thought that the voice came from the radio. He was alone in the car. But the radio was still playing music. And when the voice spoke again, it spoke into his ear. It didn ’t com e from the radio. It seemed to com e from the pa p a s s e n g e r se a t n e x t to h im . ‘Turn right here,’ it said again. It was the voice o f a y o u n g w om an : a clea clear, r, light voice. voice. H e turn ed to loo k at the the seat seat,, b u t the seat seat was was empty, o f course. course. T he re was n o thin g to fear fear.. Bu t R o g e r W ingate was was afra afraid id..



















You’ve You’ve jus t b o u g h t this this lovely lovely car and you d o n ’t seem ve ry ple p leas ased ed .’ ‘I’m sorry, Clare,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a difficult job at the office and I was was thin thin kin g o f that.’ that.’ H e d idn ’t tell tell he r abo ut the voice in the new car. ♦ Roger left home early the next morning. On his way to the office, he went to see his old friend Bill Harper. Bill worked on a

















ab ou t this. I believ e y ou r story. story. I ’ll help yo u if I can. W e’re e’re old friends, remember. Use that cassette recorder on the way home and bring it back tomorrow.’ ♦

T he nex t m or nin g R og er put the casse cassettte recorder dow n on Bill’ Bill ’s desk. His face was white. ‘Yes, Yes,’’ h e s a id .‘Ye .‘Yes. s. Yo u n e e d n ’t ask m e. I h ea rd it. Ju st like last last night. B ut did this thing h ea r it?’ H e p oin ted at the casse cassett ttee

















even ing I ’ll be afra afraid id.. I'll I'll be afrai afraid d o f the time w h en the voice will speak. And one evening when it speaks, I’ll do it. I’ll drive my car into into the mystery mystery and danger dange r w aiting aiting for for m e in in M on m ou th Ro ad. Oh, God! The voice must speak now, on the cassette. Bill has to be b e liev li ev e m e. H e has ha s to h e lp m e O n the cassett cassettee the noise o f the car disappeared. disappeared. T h e car was at the traffic lights. For a second there was almost no sound. Then came the clear, light voice, and that terrible order: Turn right here ...

















heart. He looked quickly at his friend. Bill was watching the green light. light. Turn right here — it was the same voice, but clearer and stronger.

‘ N o w ! ’ said Bill.‘ Bill. ‘Into M on m ou th R oad . A nd watch watch!! W atch atch for for trouble!’ R og er turn ed the wheel. wheel . T he big bi g car ca r turn turn ed into the quiet quie t litt little le road. A few street street lights lights fo rm ed small small lak lakes es o f yellow in the darknes darkness. s. T h e trees trees threw deep shadows acros acrosss th e fronts fronts o f the houses and on to the road.

















R og er jum pe d ou t o f the car car. H e shouted in a cr c r azy azy voice,‘My voice,‘My G od , I’ve I’ve h it her! I’ve I’ve killed he r! Bill! Bill! Bill, Bill, w h ere are you? H el p !’ Bill was by his side. His v oic e was qu iet. ‘It’s It’s all all rig h t, R og er. D o n ’t be afrai afraid. d. You hav en’t en’t h u rt her. Look! T h e road is empty. empty. Q u iet , now. Be qu iet. It ’s all rig ht.’ ‘B ut w he re . . . w h er e’s e’s she go ne ?’ said said Ro ger. ‘I saw saw her, she was standing there ... You saw her too .. . then she ‘Yes Yes, I saw he r. A nd I saw w h a t she did. B u t she ’s n o t h ere now, R og er. Q uie t, now! I’l I’ll get a taxi. taxi. T h e garage garage will co m e for yo ur



















i

M y pap er had a big picture o f her. her. T h at’s at’s ho w I knew her tonight.’ ‘I d o n ’t rem em ber a nything a bo ut it. it.’

















A Friend Friend o f the Family Famil y

















H e sm iled at her. ‘W e’ve e’ve alway alwayss be en happ y to ge the r, m y dear dear.. And this is a lovely house. But Terence Blake told lies about it, and the price was too high.’

















T h en she suddenly felt felt ill. She c ould hear the sou nd o f her heart in her chest, and her head was hurting her. She sat down in a chair near the fire.

















‘W ell, w e ’ve—’ be ga n Cecily. Ce cily. ‘O f course , it ’s full full o f ligh t an d it ’s w arm ,’ said said Isobel. ‘W e neve r had a fire fire in th e hall. It was too expensive. B ut y o u ’re rich .’



























































































































































Burton s h Six Ghost Stories

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