The Haunting of Highdown Hall by Shani Struthers Read Free Book Online Page A

dead or alive.”
    After handing them a cheque, Ruby and Ness were promptly shown the door. Clearly Miss Mills wasn’t overly fond of mediums either.
    Walking to Ruby’s Ford, which was parked next to the older woman’s equally insalubrious Vauxhall, Ness said, “Our first encounter with an animal, huh? Went well, didn’t it?”
    “It did indeed,” said Ruby, as pleased as Ness was, “surprisingly well.”
    “Are you off to meet Theo now?”
    “Yes, in Hove. And then that should be it until Highdown Hall tomorrow.”
    “Oh yes, I’ll be interested to see what you make of Highdown.”
    “What we’ll all make of Highdown soon enough.”
    After saying goodbye, Ruby drove on to her next appointment. The journey, via Lewes, then past Brighton and on into Hove, was trouble-free, the roads clear, but still she felt uncomfortable, unable to shake off the feeling that she wasn’t travelling alone. She knew it was possible for spirits to attach themselves to humans but such an occurrence was rare – normally they preferred to attach themselves to places rather than people. Rare, but not impossible – hence the need to visualise yourself wrapped in a blanket of white light before a cleansing, a protective shield to ward against such things happening, psychic armour almost. Ruby and her team never failed to do so; they had done so today, what had gone wrong?
    Confused, Ruby chanced a surreptitious glance at the seat beside her; she then looked into the rear view mirror but could see nothing, no outline, no manifestation enjoying a scenic ride, just empty space. Or was it the illusion of empty space?
    Driving past the Greyhound Stadium, past the traffic lights at the intersection of Old Shoreham Road and into Sackville Road, Hayes on the corner selling an abundance of Christmas trees, glorious even in their pre-adorned state, Ruby continued under the railway bridge before taking a right into a popular residential area known as Poets Corner – a series of streets named after Shelley, Wordsworth, Livingstone and their ilk.
    Pulling up behind Theo’s rather more stylish Fiat 500, pearlised white with Italian side stripes even though Theo claimed not a drop of Mediterranean blood, she felt the sensation of something wet brushing her hand. Surprised, she looked down and there he was, only just visible – Jed, the black Labrador, looking up at her eagerly with love, adoration and, yes, she was sure of it, unswerving loyalty in those soft canine eyes of his.
    “Oh, Jed,” she said as his manifestation faded, “what am I supposed to do with you?”

Chapter Four
     
    Jed had in fact come in very useful during the cleansing of the house in Hove. As in life, so in death; children respond well to animals and this particular child had been no exception, playing enthusiastically with his new-found friend. Jed dutifully rolling over, allowing his tummy to be tickled, jumping back up again, nuzzling the boy, licking his face profusely. The spirit child had laughed and laughed – a wonderful sound. But, as heart-warming as it was to hear, Ruby had reminded herself that this was not a happy child they were dealing with, far from it. He was sad, lost; he wanted his mother, a mother he couldn’t have again, not in this world anyway. A mother who, according to the new owners, had moved away shortly after his death from meningitis, unable to bear these four walls without her living child there with her. The owners had been quick to point out that the boy hadn’t died at the house, but at the local hospital. It didn’t matter though, if spirits returned, they tended towards places significant to them, places they were happy in during life, places where they felt they belonged.
    Timothy, the boy, understood nothing of this.
    I want my mummy. Where is she?
    All he knew was that he was alone.
    “How old are you, sweetheart?” Theo had asked him, her voice as soft and soothing as a favourite aunt’s.
    Five! The boy had announced his