The Haunting of Mrs. Webster (Chapter 7)

Chapter 7 (Under the Covers)

Madness erupted in the attic. Mainly madness from myself. The Doctor seemed pretty calm, but I had been tensed up as tight as a spring when the torch had gone off. The first thing I did was yelp as I lost all bearings of where I was.

I relaxed a little when I felt the Doctor’s hand on my arm, but the panic rose inside me again when I realised that he also had hold of my other arm. And then the realisation dawned on me. I had a sleeveless top on, so I could feel the Doctor’s warm, gentle hand on my lower arm, but the second hand, clasped around my left arm, was not a warm, gentle hand. It wasn’t a male hand. It was a cold, bony, old wrinkled hand.

I yelped. Actually, no, I didn’t yelp. This time I screamed and pulled away, feeling myself collide with the Doctor. I felt around for him. He was still sat down and I had somehow found myself sat between his legs like some weird, in-the-dark version of the ‘Oops Upside Your Head’ thing we used to do at school discos.

“Stay calm,” I heard him say, his hands trying to grab at my shoulders to secure me.

And then I felt the cold hand again, this time on my bare midriff. My top must have ridden up slightly and the cold hand was trying to grab at my belly.

I turned around and tried to scrambling away, not realising in my blind panic that I was literally crawling over the Doctor as I felt the hand grabbing at me. I could feel sharp, pinpricks of pain on my bare skin and on my back. I pushed past the Doctor and headed for the light coming from below. I flung myself at the hatch and, if it hadn’t been for the step ladder breaking my fall, I would have gone headfirst down to the carpet below.

I sort of tumbled and fell until I was sat on my bum looking up at the hatch, panting heavily.

The Doctor came down the steps the normal way; feet first, closed the hatch behind him and turned to face me. He crouched down in front of me and looked into my eyes.

“Mum, are you okay?” came Eve’s voice from downstairs.

“Doctor, what’s going on?”

“We’re fine,” said the Doctor, still looking at me. “Emily, are you okay?”

I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears and buried my face in his chest, my tears soaking his jacket. He put his arms around me and pulled me in close, rubbing my back.

“It’s okay,” he said, soothingly. “It’s all over now.”





“Well?” asked the Doctor, as he stood outside the downstairs bathroom door, impatiently.

I was in the bathroom. I’d taken my top off and was looking in the full-length mirror. On my tummy was a set of bright red scratches. I turned around to look over my shoulder at my back in the mirror. The same thing - red scratches. I touched them and winced in pain.

“Emily, do you mind if Holly comes in?”

“No,” I said, distantly.

Holly knocked and then slipped inside. She looked down at the scratches and then at me. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrified,” I said. “What could do this to someone?”

“They look vicious, Doctor, but they’ll heal.”

I put my top back on and went outside. The Doctor had gone downstairs to the kitchen and was pouring a cup of tea for the four of us. Eve was busy gathering as many chocolate biscuits as possible.

“I really think you should both leave here,” said Holly.

“No,” said the Doctor, pouring milk into each of the cups.

“No?” I said. I was now seriously starting to think about it.

“This entity is something different. It has poltergeist tendencies and normal haunting tendencies and now it’s doing something else.”

“The scratches?” asked Eve.

The Doctor nodded. “Demonic properties.”

“Oh, God,” I said, sitting down at the table, my head in my hands.

The Doctor was at me straight away. “I will get to the bottom of this, but I think this ghost has a connection to you. It wants you.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Holly.

“It attacked Emily in the attic. It didn’t even bother with me. I could feel it there climbing over me to reach for Emily, but it ignored me completely. It wanted you.”

I didn’t know what to say. The Doctor put my mug down on the table and I just stared at it, watching the steam gently rise from it.

“I think that if you left it would stop, but the ghost would still be in the house, lying dormant. The only way we’re going to be able to stop her is by having you here in this house. She’s only going to be defeated if you’re here, Emily.”

“But it’s utter madness,” said Holly. “If they just packed up and left and never returned they’d be okay.”

“But she’d still be, hiding away between the cracks in time,” said the Doctor. “And I can’t leave a job undone.”

“So what do we do?” asked Eve.

“We wait until morning. We all have a good night’s sleep and then myself and Emily will head up into the attic again - with a hundred torches if we have to - and find out what’s in that hidden space behind the panels.”

“Do I have to go up there again?” I asked. I already knew the answer.

“Not if you don’t want to, but I could do with some help, Emily.” He sat down next to me and put his arm around me. “I promise you that I will keep you safe.”



That night I don’t think any of us slept a wink. Eve was in bed with me again and Holly and the Doctor had taken to sleeping on the sofas downstairs. I turned to face Eve, who had thankfully drifted off, and looked up at the ceiling. She had been up there somewhere – the old woman – crawling above my bedroom ceiling. It made me shudder to think about it.

I tried not to think about it. Instead I tried to think of warm and fluffy things - kittens and summer and holidays by the seaside. I reached across to the bedside table and switched on my little portable radio. The Shipping Forecast was on Radio 4. I found listening to people talking would help me to drift off.

Slowly but surely, as the voice called out it’s names – Dogger, Cromarty, Viking – I drifted away in the night sea...

“Emily.”

I opened my eyes. It was still dark. The radio was on. Static filled my ears.

“Emily.”

I frowned. Who was saying that? My blood ran cold as I listened again.

“Emily.”

It was an old voice. An old woman’s voice - hissing and rasping and sounding as evil as they come. I began to breathe heavily as the voice seemed to mix and mingle in the static.

“Emily.”

I yelped and threw my hand down on the radio, switching it off instantly.

“Mum?” came Eve’s tired, half-asleep voice.

I was about to reply when I felt something towards the bottom of the bed. It felt like it used to do when our old cat, Topsy, used to sit on the end of the bed. It was right next to me feet. I froze as I sensed Eve drifting off again.

And then I felt the bottom of the bed cover being lifted up. I could feel the cold air on the end of my toes. I daren’t look down the bed. I pulled the covers tighter around me and continue to stare at the ceiling. I was going to burst into tears at any moment.

And then it happened. Two cold, old, gnarled hands grabbed my feet and then my ankles.

I yelped again and they gripped tighter. I tried to pull my feet away, but the hands wouldn’t let go. The more I struggled, the tighter they gripped. I could feel her – the old woman – dragging me down my own bed. I turned and twisted and tried to crawl away.

By now Eve was wide awake and was looking at me. She screamed.

There came the thunder of steps up the stairs, a light flicked on, the door opened and the hands let go.

The Doctor was there in an instant.

“What’s happened?” he asked, looking around the room.

“She was here. She was here,” I said, unable to control myself. “She grabbed my ankles. She tried to take me!”

“It’s alright,” said the Doctor, sitting on the bed and putting his arms around me. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I should have let you stay downstairs with us.”

“Mum, are you okay?” asked Eve.

“Eve, will you go downstairs and wake up Holly,” said the Doctor. “We can’t wait until morning for this. We have to deal with her now.”

Eve nodded and, as afraid as she was, put her slippers on and headed downstairs.

“She’s going to kill us, isn’t she?” I said, looking up at the Doctor.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “She will not harm you or your daughter. I promise. This ends tonight.”

I closed my eyes, nodded and continued to sob.

“Doctor,” shouted Eve from downstairs.

“Yes?”

“Something’s not right.”

“What do you mean?” asked the Doctor, gently moving away from me and walking to the landing.

Eve was at the bottom of the stairs looking up at him.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Holly?”

“I don’t know,” said Eve. “I checked the kitchen, the bathroom...everywhere. She’s just vanished.”

“Doctor,” I said, worriedly, looking across to the piece of wall between the two bedroom windows.

The Doctor re-entered the bedroom and looked at the wall. On it, scratched into the paint work was crudely written words. They read:

“GIVE HER TO ME OR SHE DIES.”

To be continued...