The Haunting of Pear Tree Cottage
Chapter Twelve

“Yoo hoo, yoo hoo, Chrissie. It’s me, Mum. Can you let me in? It’s raining men—I mean cats and dogs, out here.” This was followed by bellowing laughter, and the clacking sound of the letter box going back into place. Peering from the window, I noticed a taxi setting off from outside the house, teeming rain clearly visible in its headlights, and just one side of Mum standing on the porch wearing her usual outfit of skinny jeans and boots, but with a longer furry leopard print jacket that reached her knees. Her hair looked stylish in her usual Zandra Rhodes bob. Oh no, I had Lily Makepeace and Mabel coming around very soon to do the house cleansing. Could we still do it with Mum here?

Rushing to the door, I flung it open and she sashayed into the hallway, trundling her tiny pink suitcase behind her.

“Hello, Mum, what are you doing here?”

“Oh well, thank you, Chrissie. Pleased to see me, are you?”

“Of course I am, just surprised, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well I wanted to surprise you, love. You know, those dull winter evenings—boring, ain’t they? I thought we’d be company for each other—until that boss man of yours comes back, of course!” I tried to hide a smile, but Mum saw it. “He is coming back, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” I nodded, still smiling. “Within a couple of weeks.”

“Oh Chrissie.” Unusual for Mum, she flung her arms around me and pulled me close, her wet coat soaking me through. “I knew you sounded happier last time we spoke on the phone. I hope now you can put that useless article in Leeming out of your thoughts and be happy with— what does Pete call him? Tex?” She giggled like a girl.

“His name’s Rick, Mum, and I haven’t thought about that useless article in Leeming, if you mean Stuart that is, for ages. Anyone is welcome to him now.”

“I don’t think anyone wants him,” replied Mum dismissively. “That Anna’s taken off and Madge is at her wit’s end. He keeps going around to her for his meals now—and for his washing!” She shrugged off her furry coat and, draping it over the settee, made her way into the kitchen and put the kettle on. “You don’t mind if I make myself at home, do you, love?”

I shook my head. “No, its fine, Mum. Thing is, though, I’ve got somebody coming round,” I checked my watch, “In a few minutes time.”

She gave me a look.

“Not a bloke, Mum,” I said, scandalized as I watched her searching the cupboard for a suitable mug, and eventually taking one with a picture of Donny Osmond on it.

“Ooh, I used to love him,” she said fondly. And then, “I should hope not,” as the kettle bubbled to the boil and she poured the water over a spoonful of coffee and several sugars. “You’ll definitely have enough to contend with when your boss man comes back.”

How come she’s still so thin? I thought as I saw her spooning what looked like a two-pound bag of sugar into her mug. “Lily Makepeace from work and Mabel from next door are coming round.”

“Oh yeah? Oh I do like that Mabel. Chirpy little woman, isn’t she? And she certainly looked after us on Christmas Day.” She settled comfortably onto the settee, put her mug on the little side table, and stretched her arms toward the fire. “Oh, I do love this fire, Chrissie. Miss it, I do, when I’m not here.”

Well there was nothing else for it, I’d have to tell her. I sat down on the arm chair opposite her and leaning forward, said, “Look, I’ll come clean with you, Mum, so to speak. They’re coming to do a house cleanse.”

“Your house don’t need cleaning,” she said indignantly. “It’s so spick and span, I can see my face in your kitchen floor.”

“Not that sort of cleaning! I’ve had some strange happenings. They’re going to say cleansing prayers and things like that.”

“What sort of strange happenings?” she said, frowning, “Ghosts and stuff?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to tell you before because I was worried you wouldn’t stay here again, and I don’t want you going to a B&B. I like you staying here.”

“Ah, do you? That’s nice.” She took a sip of coffee and winced, saying, “Ugh, maybe I went a bit mad on the sugar.”

“You can go out if you like, Mum. You don’t have to be here when they come.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll stay.” And then very decisively, “Do you think I’d leave a daughter of mine in a house full of ghosts? No way!”

There was a tiny bird like tapping and, on opening the door, Lily and Mabel twittered their way in, saying, “Hello, Chrissie. Oh, hello there, Zandra. How nice to see you.”

Mum stood gracefully and inclined her head. “Likewise, Mabel. Ooh, I don’t think I’ve met you, Lily.”

“Lily Makepeace,” she said, shaking Mum’s hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” they all twittered. “Filthy night, isn’t it? Raining hard out there now,” whilst taking off their coats and hanging them neatly on the coat pegs. Lily carried what looked like a large black leather medical bag with a broad silver clasp. I noticed that Mum gave Lily’s tweed outfit a bit of an up and down look. Maybe reminding her too much of her old self, Doreen?

“Coffee all round then?” asked Mum as she disappeared into the kitchen, coming back a few minutes later with a tray containing the sugar bowl, milk jug, and spoons. She disappeared again, and I heard the kettle bubbling to the boil.

“Does your mother know what’s going on?” asked Lily, clutching the large bag to her chest as she sank deeply into the settee, her little legs sticking up like a tortoise on its back.

“Yes,” I told them. “I’ve just explained that I’ve had some strange happenings, and you’ve come to do cleansing prayers and to bless this house.”

“Bless this House,” said Mabel. “Ooh, do you remember that program, Lily?”

“Ooh, I do. Sid James, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, oh so funny. And his wife, very attractive—what was her name?”

“Diana Coupland?” said Mum as she came in carrying mugs for Lily and Mabel like the hostess with the mostest.

They’d lost me, totally, all three of them. I must have looked suitably bewildered, because Mabel said, “Take no notice of us, Chrissie. Just a program that used to be on the telly back in the day. You’re too young to remember it.”

“But anyway, enough of that,” said Lily. “Let us proceed to really bless this house. Oh, before I forget, Chrissie, Mabel has just told me all about the pear tree. I’ve seen it in your garden. It seems to be growing very fast.”

“Yes, it certainly is,” I said. “A very strange thing to happen.” I shook my head in bewilderment.

“I told her the Council said it wasn’t them that cut it down,” put in Mabel. “They knew nothing about it, and said they would never go in to a private garden and remove a tree. Gave me a bit of a dressing down for even thinking they would do such a thing, I can tell you! But I do miss it in my back yard.”

“I knew there was something weird about that pear tree just appearing like that!” said Mum. “You mean it used to be in your yard, Mabel?”

Cringing, Mabel nodded and mouthed, “Sorry.”

Turning to me, Mum said, “You told me porkies, Chrissie!”

“Only because I didn’t want to scare you, Mum.”

“She’s only trying to protect you, Zandra,” said Lily. “Now, come on, let’s get on with this. There’s nothing we can do about the pear tree now.”

“Well, hopefully, we can still make pear wine regardless of where the tree is?” asked Mabel hopefully.

“Of course, Mabel,” I assured her. “That goes without saying.”

Lily cleared her throat impressively and pulled a few sheets of paper covered in scribbled writing from the bag, and placed them on the settee beside her. She then removed a tall figure of Jesus, which she placed on the coffee table, a picture of angels floating about in the sky, and some incense sticks that she lit from the fire and wafted around the room before placing them in a little glass vase that also came out of the bag. They smelled sweet and yummy, like the inside of one of those old fashioned sweet shops.

“Is that Mary Poppins’s bag?” I asked, which set everybody off with twittering and baying laughter. A menagerie in my sitting room? Whatever next.

“We have to open a couple of windows, Chrissie,” said Lily, “So that the negative energy has somewhere to escape to.” Obediently I opened the two little top windows and lit two big fat white candles, which had also appeared from the bag, and placed them in the candle holders on the mantelpiece. I glanced at Mum, who was sitting stock still and staring. I didn’t know if she realized her hands were in prayer position, but she looked very pious and a lot more like Doreen than Zandra, which I didn’t think she’d be very happy about.

“Salt,” said Lily, waving a packet in the air. “This needs to be sprinkled in the entrance area.”

“Why’s that?” asked Mum. And when Lily gave her a bit of a look said hurriedly, “I’m just curious like!”

“It keeps the spirits away.”

“What spirits? Gin? Whiskey? Rum?” Mum cackled like a witch, reminding me of Morgan Bloom and her struggles as she was drowned by the baying mob. A shiver hurtled down the length of my spine.

“Not alcoholic spirits,” said Lily smoothly. “Ghostly spirits, Zandra, ghostly spirits.”

I noticed that Mabel hid a smile behind her mug as she took a big gulp of coffee. Lily gave me the packet of salt, which I duly sprinkled in the entrance way.

“Hmm, I think we’re ready to begin now, ladies.” She glanced around and then said, “Oh no, the lights. Please turn them off, Chrissie.” I jumped up and flicked the light switch, plunging the room into darkness except for the flickering of the candles, which made the corners look sinister and creepy and dark enough for something horrible to be hiding in their depths.

“Hmm, that’s better. So let us pray. Please close your eyes.” Dutifully we all put our hands into prayer position, bowed our heads, and closed our eyes. “Please repeat after me. “Our Father, who art in Heaven.’ We repeated each line after Lily like a group of nuns praying in a church, pews hard as nails beneath their knees.

The mirror glowed from the wall, reminding me of the hooded figure I’d seen there such a long time ago now. Peering through the slit of one eye, I saw that Mum was glancing furtively around the room. She looked like a deer panicking in bright headlights as she repeated after Lily, “Forever and ever, Amen.”

Lily droned on. “I ask that you surround the entire home with an orb of light. I ask that anything inside of this orb that is not in alignment with unconditional love, or that does not have the highest interest of humanity and all beings be released into the light of the divine.

“Thank you, angels, for filling the entire home with light. Flow light into every corner, crevice, and cabinet. Under and around the furniture, clothes, and belongings. Under the floors, in between the walls, and above the roof. Cleanse the energy and elevate the vibration. Above, below, behind, beside, and all around.”

I zoned out a little bit (my mind straying to Morgan and Seth Bloom and then worrying that Moses would be okay locked in my bedroom out of harm’s way) and caught up with them at, “…vibration in the way that will most serve us and the highest and greatest good of all. I ask this according to divine will. Thank you for your support and love and frequency, and so it is. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

Mum seemed to be shivering or shaking, I wasn’t sure if in fear or laughter. Laughter most likely, her shoulders were quivering so much.

Lily started speaking again with much gesticulation of her arms this time, like somebody at a presidential rally. “And I now ask you, Morgan Bloom, and you, Seth Bloom, to leave Pear Tree Cottage, to leave this life and go into the light. Amen.”

Everybody repeated amen and there was a silence, a deep dark silence, where nobody spoke and nobody moved. The little clock on the mantelpiece ticked the minutes away, tiny weeny little ticks into the silence. The smell of the incense was too sweet now, far too sweet, and my head began to hurt, to pulse, like strong fingers were squeezing and squeezing.

There was a sudden shift in the room and a tensing in the air, and the candles that were burning so beautifully flickered and died with a tiny plume of smoke so that the room dropped into darkness, a darkness so deep that, even with the light from the fire, we could barely see each other. A wind began to blow, strong and violent, and a gauzy mist appeared, twirling and whirling like a tornado.

Manic laughter rang out, and then we saw her, Morgan Bloom, within the mist, dark hair blowing, green eyes shining, and bright red lips curled into a terrible smile, reminding me of the other time she appeared and stole Moses away from me. Her voice was harsh and mocking. “No prayer or potion will banish me! I am far too strong for you!”

“Link hands and repeat these words after me,” instructed Lily. Stretching out our arms, we linked hands and repeated after Lily. “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures.”

We carried on chanting and slowly the wind dropped, the mist faded away, and the candles miraculously flickered to life, and even though the incense still burned, my headache eased away as if by magic. The very air felt light, and not harsh and oppressive, as if the spell had been broken. Morgan Bloom was gone. She was wrong, we were stronger than her.

We crumpled onto the settee, all four of us, sated, totally empty, and weak. “Good God,” said Mum. “I don’t believe what I saw! Do you think she’s gone now? Oh my, I’m still shaking.” She held out her hands, which looked like two pale quivering fish.

“Oh, I do hope so,” said Lily. She reached for her bag and pulled out a bottle. “Pear wine, anybody?”

“I’m so glad we brought the wine with us, Lily,” said Mabel. “It will really hit the spot now.” She put a shaking hand to her heart.

“I’ll get some glasses,” I said.

We’d taken our first sip when there was a terrible banging on the front door, an incessant banging that seemed to make the whole house shake. A voice rang out, high pitched and screaming, “Let me in, it’s me, Morgan Bloom.”

“Oh, God no,” screeched Mum. “She’s come back!” Even Lily and Mabel moved together in fright.

A sudden burst of bravery overcame me, and I rushed to the door and flung it open. Pete Horner stood there, suppressing a grin as he saw what must have been my terrified face.

“Ey up, Chrissie Lewis. Is Zandra there?”

“Why you, you….” I was lost for words.

“Gawd, blimey, Chrissie Lewis, you should see your boat race!”

I slammed the door in his face. “You bottle and glass,” I shouted through the letter box.

“Good one, Chrissie Lewis, you’re catching on fast. I’m really proud of you! Is Zandra there though?”

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