“The Cursed Old Manor House”

The Haunted Old House

All right, here we are! Time to unload! The lorry driver stopped at the sagging wooden gate and switched off the engine.

Clara gently nudged her daughter, Daisy, who was fast asleep against her shoulder.

Were here, darling. Open your eyes.

Sleepy Daisy rubbed her eyes with her fist and looked around, trying to spot the house.

Mum, is this where were living now?

Yes, sweetheart. Come on, lets start unloading and get a look at the place.

Clara climbed down from the tall step and lifted Daisy into her arms. A moment later, Mark, who had followed in his own car, appeared from behind the lorry.

All okay?

Fine. Have you got the keys?

Of course. Her former husband handed her a bunch of keys. I left the house papers on the kitchen tableyoull find them easily. Ill come for Daisy on Saturday, as we agreed.

Perfect.

Ill help with the boxes, then Ive got to dash. Loads to do.

Clara nodded. She still had a gnawing pain inside, but she knew things couldnt be changed. Life moves on, after all, and best not to make a fuss.

She and Mark had been together for five years. Just a month ago, Clara discovered Mark was seeing someone else. Not just an affair, but a fully-fledged relationship. He was planning a family with her.

At first, Clara felt as if shed slipped into some parallel universe, everything tinged with gloom. What now? How should she go on? She couldnt think that far ahead. Yesterday, shed had a secure life, a steady marriage, someone she could rely on. Suddenlynothing. It was all gone. Even her faith in people had been snatched away. If the one closest to her could so easily betray her, what hope was there for anyone else? She and Mark barely argued, always got along, which is probably why she never noticed a thing.

The shock left her utterly disoriented.

Clara continued with the usual routines, looking after Daisy, cooking, tidying, workingjust going through the motions, unable to focus on the future.

The flat they shared was owned by Marks parents.

Clara had only one relativeher elderly Aunt Lilywho lived in the next town. Her only family left. Since Clara could rarely get to see her, she arranged for a neighbour to fetch groceries and medicines for Lily, keeping an eye on her. Claras own parents flat, which shed inherited, was let out on a long lease, with the rent split equally between Clara and an account shed opened for Aunt Lily. Shed offered many times to swap Lilys cottage for a flat closer by, but Lily would have none of it.

When Mark finally confessed, he knew Clara wouldnt kick up a fussshe just wasnt that type. When it was no longer possible to hide the affairgood neighbours having passed on the newshe came home, waited until Daisy was asleep, and called Clara into the kitchen.

I know youve found out. I wont try to justify myself. It happened. Weve got Daisy, and I want her to be spared as much upset as possible. Have you given any thought to what you want to do next?

I havent a clue Clara sat, clutching her mug, eyes fixed on the table.

A storm of emotions raged inside her. Why? How? Questions raced through her mind, but she kept her composure. She didnt want Mark to know the state she was in. The hurt was so deep she found it hard to breathe, but he was rightthey needed to think about Daisy.

Maybe I should end the lease on the flat.

No need. I owe you and Daisy. So, after a talk with my parents how about moving house?

Where to? Clara looked up at herat that momentstill husband.

You know Mums old house in the next town? Its a bit worn, but solid and warm, and Aunt Lily lives nearby, doesnt she? Mum wants to transfer the house to you and Daisy. What do you think?

Trying to pay us off? Clara smirked, but considered it.

Perhaps it was the best option. She didnt want to bump into Mark and his new love every five minutes. Actually, everything familiar now made her ache. Walks in the park near their flat brought back memories of happy family times shed rather forget.

She needed to look to the future. Hers, and above all, Daisys.

What was she giving up, after all? The town was small, but had a good school, GP, everything close by. And the only relative nearby, who could help. Daisy was little and needed watching. Mark wasnt likely to look after them as he once did. Shed need to find work

Clara nodded determinedly.

Ill do it.

Brilliant! Mark stood. Talk to Mum tomorrow about the details. Shell ring you about seeing the solicitor. Ive got to run.

At the door, he hesitated, then, without looking at her, muttered, Im sorry. I never wanted it to end this way.

Clara didnt answer. She nodded, shut the door, slid down the wall, and bit her jumper sleeve, silently howling so she wouldnt wake Daisy.

It wasnt cryingit was more like keening. As a girl, Clara had seen a documentary about wolves, and now felt more like a wounded she-wolf than a woman.

She cried for ages, until it felt as though all her fury had been washed away. What was left was empty and hollow. One stubborn thought flickered through her mindshe had to find something good to fill that emptiness, or shed sink into a bottomless pit of despair shed never climb out of.

The next few weeks were so tough, Clara chose not to think of anything except the move and all it entailed.

Now, she stands in front of the crooked fence of her new house, surveying a wildly overgrown garden that all but hides the place. Just a glimpse of roof and part of the veranda peep out amongst the trees.

Daisy tugs her hand.

Mum, why are you just standing about? Lets go!

They walk down the pathway, and, dodging an apple tree, get their first proper look at the house.

No, Clara thinks, its not just a house. Despite its weathered look, its solid, with a little mezzanine and a lovely large porch decked with coloured glass panes. In the autumn garden, its picture-perfect. Clara gets out her camera and snaps a few shots. Looking at what will be their home, she realises she actually likes it here. The amount of work to be donewell, its exactly what she needs now. Daisy stands beside her, mouth open and finger in her mouth. Clara gently tugs the pom-pom on her hat.

Take your finger out, sweetheart. You like the house?

Mum! Its so pretty!

I think so too. But lets go in and see where youll be sleeping!

Yes! Hurry!

Up the steps, across the veranda, and into the house. A roomy hallway, doors off to the kitchen and other rooms. Clara walks through, imagining how best to arrange the furniture.

The house is small: a kitchen, two rooms downstairs, one in the mezzanine, and a spacious living-dining room with a big round table and an old lampshade draped with a knitted shawl. Its a bit dampclearly not heated in ages. But Clara feels a strange sense of warmth and comfort all the same.

Clara! Everythings unloaded and Ive settled up with the movers, Mark calls from the large room. Ill show you the boiler and the water heater.

He quickly demonstrates, then takes his leave.

Clara heads to the kitchen.

She puts the kettle on and starts unpacking tubs of food for Daisy. While the stew heats, she fetches her cleaning supplies to wipe the table.

The kitchen is cosy, with two large windows overlooking the garden. By one window stands a table, which Clara begins to clean. Daisy sits swinging her legs, inspecting cupboards and the colourful lampshade above.

Suddenly, theres a loud tap at the window. Daisy squeals, Clara jumps, glances upand sees a huge ginger tom cat sitting on the outside sill.

Goodness me! Was that really necessary, scaring us like that? Clara lets out a breath. Daisy, look at this handsome chap!

The cat stares at Clara without blinking.

Well? Are you coming in, since youve come calling? Ill see what I can find for you to eat.

The cat hops down and disappears.

Clearly, hell only grace us with his presence if asked nicely! Clara smiles. Daisy, go and wash your hands! Lunch is nearly ready.

Clara turns to the doorjumps. The cat is sitting on the doormat.

How on earth did you get in? I closed the door!

The cat is unbothered, gazing at them with big yellow eyes, narrowing them playfully so that Clara cant help but smile.

She takes out some boiled chicken, divides it, and places it on a chipped old saucer.

Here you go!

The cat strides over and eats with dignity.

Clara checks the doorsevery one closed as she left itbut then notices a cat-flap at the bottom of the back door. From a long-ago owner, no doubt. Their ginger guest clearly knows his way about.

Back in the kitchen, Daisy is sitting on the floor, chatting away to the cat, who is listening intently. Clara laughs for the first time in ages.

Having serious talks, are we?

Mother and cat both look up in unisonClara could swear the cat shrugs, just like Daisy, its so funny.

Theres a knock at the door. Clara warns Daisy, Stay put! and goes to answer.

Hello there! Im your neighbour, Paula Greggoryjust call me Auntie Paula. Here you go! The lady hands over a milk bottle. From my own goat! Drink up, its good for you.

Thank you! Im Claralovely to meet you. Ooh, its still warm! Thank you so much. Clara takes the bottle and beckons her in. Please, come in.

Auntie Paula comes in without hesitation.

Clara puts the milk by the cooker while Daisy turns.

Hello, Im Daisy.

Hello, Daisy! And Im Auntie Paula.

Nice to meet you! Um, do you know whose cat that is?

Of course I do! That rascal belongs to me. Names Arthur. If hes eating too much, send him packingbelieve me, hes well-fed at home, but if we let him, hed get so fat hed do nothing but sleep and stop catching mice.

You have mice? Daisys mouth is open.

Of course! Everyone in houses like this has mice, especially in autumn.

Mum, we definitely need Arthur. We have to!

Clara grins, Lets see, shall we? Auntie Paula, do you know anyone nearby looking for a bit of work? I need help with the garden and a few jobs on the house… Its all too much for me.

Aye, I know just the man. Go see Mr. CarterChristopher Carterthree doors down, green gate. Handy man, fair. Hell get anything done and not charge the earth.

Thank you! Oh, let me offer you some tea! Were just in, but Ive biscuits and chocolates somewhere.

Wouldnt say no, Auntie Paula beams.

They sit with tea, and Auntie Paula chatters about the town and her family before suddenly asking, So, Clara, how did you end up here?

Inherited it, Clara says, trying to hide her feelings. She had no desire to share her life story.

Did you know its been empty twenty years, nearly? The youngsters have forgotten, but older folk remembereveryone says its a bad-luck house.

Youre scaring me, what do you mean? Did something happen?

No, not reallybut people never lasted here long. A year or two, then left. Someone would fall ill, or lose someone, or happiness just always seemed to flee. Its had that reputation for ages. A local tradesman built it for his fiancée: she died within the first year of marriage, some fever, I think. He sold up and moved on, and after that Well, its a very old house, nearly a hundred years. Its been patched up a bit, but for some reason, nobody stuck around.

Clara fiddles with her tea spoon.

Interesting Well, well see how it goes! Were tough ladies, arent we, Daisy? Takes a lot more than a story to frighten us. Lets see what this house is made of!

Some months pass.

Clara settles in. Daisy starts nursery school, Clara takes a job at the local photo shop, earning well, snapping events around the village. Photography was once only a hobby, but during her pregnancy shed taken courses, gradually building up experience. Now, it was the thing that kept them going.

With help from Mr. Carter, whom Auntie Paula recommended, Clara tames the gardendiscovering a bounty of apple and berry bushes. With care, Daisy will have all the fruit she could want. Together, they fix the roof, veranda and porcha lot of work, but worth it.

The house comes alive. Mornings on the porch with a mug of tea, Claire runs a loving hand over the new railings, feeling, for the first time in ages, truly at home.

Clara takes responsibility for Aunt Lily, and every evening after nursery, mother and daughter call in to see her before returning home. She realises moving was the best decision. The pain of Marks betrayal eases.

He visits often, keeps in touch with Daisy, which helps Clara makes peace with how things turned out. Mark hasnt abandoned their daughter, and that mattered. Life can be messyshe decides not to dwell on blame. Shed neglected Mark sometimes, lost herself in being a mother. No point picking over itbest to ensure Daisy knows she has loving parents, even if theyre not together.

Aunt Lily supports her: Youre right not to hold a grudge, Clara! Even a pebble will feel like a mountain if you nurse it too long. Let go of whats pastremember only what was good. Youve got Daisy, thats what counts! Dont keep anger in your heart, itll eat away at your soul and change nothing. You need to be bright for Daisyshe sees everything, you know! Children are sharp. What will she remember of this time? What version of you will linger in her mind?

Clara nods in agreement.

Gradually, she gets to know all the neighbours on her street. Without even realising, she starts to make friendsother mums pop round, and Daisy has playmates. The older generations visit too.

She meets Auntie Mary, who lives further down. Auntie Mary teaches her to bake proper bread, which Daisy adoresno more fuss over milk when it comes with a slice of fresh crust. Clara laughs, wiping Daisys milk moustache.

Soon, she befriends another neighbour, Old Jack, who arrives one day with a bowl overflowing with the largest strawberries Clara has ever seen.

Britannia variety, he says. Once you get settled, Ill show you how to grow them yourself.

Once the veranda is restored with Mr. Carters help, Clara sets up a big table and polishes the old stained glass. In the corner is a rocking chair, Daisys favourite perch, often shared with the ginger, mischievous Arthur, who has essentially adopted their house. Now, Clara cautiously checks the porch before stepping out each morning, after once stepping on a neat pile of dead mice Arthur lined up as tribute. He earns his keep with his mousing, though Clara would have let him in regardlessDaisy is besotted with the cat.

The only neighbour Clara isnt keen on is Susan. Older, nosy, and a relentless gossip. At first, Clara didnt realise what was happeningbut when she caught on, shed look for excuses to end the visits early, avoiding the bitter talk.

Auntie Paula, how do I cope with her? she once asked. She just talks and talksawful things about everyone!

Nothing you can do, Clara. Stop letting her in, shell start spreading tales about youno escaping her tongue. I sorted her, though.

How?

Easy! Ive got catsshes allergic.

Clara musesperhaps she needs a dog as well.

Susan quickly spotted that Clara listened politelyand had no compunction about coming round whenever she fancied a gossip. Clara would serve her tea, sigh inwardly, and hum tunes in her head to drown out the chatter. Susan never noticed. She didnt even want replies.

After a while, Clara noticed odd things happened when Susan turned up.

The first time, Susan tore her new skirt on a stray nail Clara swore wasnt thereMr. Carter had only just finished the porch, sanding every surface. A bad omen: Susan barely spoke that day.

Another time, Susan managed to miss her seat entirely, landing with a thumpimpressive, seeing as there was nowhere for the chair to go.

Whether that did the trick or Susan found a better audience, the visits became less frequent.

One morning, while trimming the hedge, Clara overheard Susan talking to Auntie Paula.

She lives there alone with a childno man around? I dont believe it! The garden, the houseall so neat, she must have someone coming round when nobodys looking.

Oh, nonsense! Auntie Paula retorted. You know perfectly well it was Mr. Carter helpingshe paid him, like anyone would!

And that houseeveryone knows its cursed! She should get out while she can! Whys she still there? And everyone goes to her house! Never to mine. Why?

Because its not the place that makes the person, its the person that makes the place, Susan! Claras kind, so people are drawn to her. Now off you pop, milks on the stove!

Clara smiled wryly. Some people never change.

Mum! Where are you? Daisy calls from the porch.

Here! Are you up? Washed?

Not yet! Waitlook!

Clara turns. Down the path comes Arthur, hauling a small ginger kitten by the scruff, just as orange as himself. He trots up to Clara, gives her a stern look, and drops the kitten into her hands, which is wriggling and voicing its displeasure loudly.

Thanks, Arthur! You think we need this, do you?

Arthur purrs, turns tail, and heads towards Auntie Paulas house, apparently satisfied his job is done.

Well, Daisy, Clara says, maybe youre rightwe do need him. What should we call him?

Lets call him Arthur too!

Clara lifts the kitten up to meet his eyes.

Welcome, Sir Arthur! All right everyoneinside! Breakfast awaits!

Daisy laughs, pushes open the veranda door, and the warmth of home greets them.