Dream Cottage (10 page)

“Oh Charles, please don’t attempt to speak with your mouth full! Manners, dear, maketh a man!” Jeanne glared.

“Morning all! Am I too late for a full English?” Max breezed into kitchen, freshly showered and looking relaxed.

“Oh Maxim! Good morning to you! Sit down! Sit down! Breakfast is served!” Jeanne boomed. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Max sat down next to Greta.

“Mummy was just talking about her paranormal experiences, with a medium, Max.” Greta buttered a piece of warm wholemeal toast.

Max looked at Greta, wondering whether to make a joke or not. Greta flashed a frown at him.

“It was truly fascinating, wasn’t it Daddy?”

“Right,” Max returned. “Whatever floats your boat; could you please pass the ketchup?”

Charles didn’t answer but carried on tucking into his breakfast. Jeanne looked awkwardly at Max.

“Let’s just say it was a comfort to me and, it still is,” she replied and placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Max. “Anyway, what are you going to be doing at Greenacres today, Maxim?” She quickly changed the subject.

“Probably spend time deciding what to do about the
hole in the floor. Bloody nuisance, but these things happen, don’t they Greta?” Max expertly threw the conversation back at Greta who wrinkled her nose at him in distaste.

“Well, both of you please
be
careful,” Jeanne sat down at the table and sipped at her tea. “Make sure you don’t end up in more perilous situations.”

Greta looked alarmed. She threw a glance at Max. Max spoke for her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fine, Jeanne,” he reassured. “Won’t we, darling?”

Greta and Max drove slowly down the unmade lane towards Greenacres. They could see the scaffolding surrounding the cottage walls. The sun was shining against the metal struts, giving the effect of glinting lights.

“It’s sparkling, just like the treasures beneath!” Greta laughed.

They drew up outside the cottage.

“It is lovely, isn’t it? I really love it here. It has a certain draw on me. I feel like I don’t ever want to be away from it.”

“That’s because of the treasure. It is making you feel rich already!” Max turned off the engine and got out of the car.

“Right, let’s resume where we left off yesterday. I will make sure that we have enough ropes if the ladder gives out on us. Come on.”

Greta stared up at the roof. Max caught her eye.

“Don’t you start looking up there! You look like Rev Oli!”

“Sorry, I was just daydreaming. I wasn’t looking for anything.” Greta lied. However, something had caught her eye on the ridge of the roof. For a split second, she thought she had seen a figure waving at her from beside
the chimney pot.

Max unlocked the back door and they went indoors. Greta shook her head. “I must be suffering from sleep deprivation,” she thought.

They made their way into the kitchen and walked over to the hole in the floor.

“Do you think the passageway could be undermining the cottage? You know, having this socking great hole and a tunnel beneath.”

“No. It is so far down. Way beyond the foundations, it won’t cause any problems.” Max leaned over the entrance.

“But, from all accounts, looking at this masonry, the kitchen doesn’t have any foundations.” Greta kicked at a pile of rubble. “Look, see what I mean?”

Her foot disappeared under a layer of earth. There were certainly no foundations beneath. It was just chalkstone and mud.

“The most important thing we have to think about is what do we do about the gold? And what do we do about the passageway. It will have to be filled in… whoa! What the hell was that?”

As Max spoke, a deafening bang could be heard from deep down beneath the cottage. It was coming from the passageway. Greta felt unnerved.

“I don’t know, and I don’t think I want to find out.” She held on to Max’s arm as he peered over the hole.

“Well I’m damn sure I am going to find out,” he boldly replied and took hold of the top of the ladder.

“Well, be careful, please,” Greta spoke softly.

Max stopped and looked at her.

“You are sounding like that dream I had, with that odd looking girl. She said be careful. Do you remember me mentioning it?”

“So you said. But I was just stating the obvious. There
might be a build up of gases or something down there. So, please be careful!” Greta insisted. “I am going to stay up here, keep an eye on things.”

“Chicken!” Max smiled.

“No, I’m being sensible, in case you get stuck. It makes complete sense!” Greta was indignant.

“All I am going to do is to fetch that box of goodies so we can take a closer look at it. Nothing more.”

“Okay. But I am still going to stay put here,” Greta repeated.

“As you wish.” Max began to climb down the ladder. He draped a rope across his shoulder. “See you in a moment.”

He disappeared out of view whilst Greta held on to the top of the ladder to steady Max’s descent. She shone a torch down after him. He had reached the ground safely.

Max clambered through the passageway to the door. He shone his torch in front of him along the passageway to see how far it went. He was amazed to find that its length ran much further than he had first anticipated. The beam from the torchlight didn’t seem to find the end. He called up to Greta.

“Just going to have a quick look along the tunnel. It looks like it runs in a straight line.”

“Don’t be long!” Greta called back. “You said you were only going to fetch the treasure box!”

“I know, but I am intrigued by this tunnel. It is really quite cool!” Max shouted back.

He began to walk forwards and bent his head. The tunnel roof was not very high and it was impossible to stand upright. Max persisted even though he hit his head on countless occasions on jutting out rocks and stones, which showered him with dust and cobwebs. As he walked, he sensed that he wasn’t alone. He periodically stopped and shone the torch around him. He couldn’t see
anything. Shrugging his shoulders in the confined space, he carried on walking. He thought about his dream.

“Be careful!” warned the girl’s voice in his head.

The tunnel continued in front of him, dark, into the unknown and a strong smell of mustiness filled the air. In places, the tunnel floor was getting progressively wetter. Water droplets were seeping through the walls, causing Max to think he was perhaps beneath a field. He decided to carry on. He had to know where the tunnel was leading him.

A noise of tumbling stones and dust made him stop. Not daring to look around him, he called out.

“Greta? Is that you?”

There was no response.

“Stop messing around!” He laughed into the shadows.

The noise stopped.

“Come on, you stupid git. You don’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo,” he nervously reassured himself.

He carried on walking through the tunnel, totally unaware of what was following behind him. At a few paces behind Max, a translucent male figure, dressed in 17
^th
century garb, was tracking him. He was trying to prevent Max venturing any further forward. His efforts weren’t working.

The man spoke in a deep and husky tone.

“What are you doing down here? You should not be here. This place is mine. Not yours, mine! I… want you to get out… now!” His voice was threatening. “Get… out… now. You should not be here!”

Max couldn’t hear a word of what the spirit was saying. He shone his torch up and down the tunnel; the shadows, cast by the ray of light, created imaginary dark figures. It was empty. He retreated to collect the gold. He hurriedly made his way back to the room. When he arrived
the door was jammed fast. Max was annoyed. He called out to Greta.

“Hey, have you been down here?”

“No, I’m still waiting for you up here!” Greta yelled back. “You’ve been gone for ages. I was beginning to get worried and I couldn’t get a signal on my stupid phone.”

“Well this bloody door to the treasure is stuck. I can’t open it!” Max shouted in frustration. “And I have just heard this… oh, it doesn’t matter. Can you fetch an axe for me? I need to get this door open!”

“Hang on, I’ll go and find one and throw it down the hole for you,” Greta shouted from the kitchen and dashed off in search of an axe. Greta shook her head; Max was always so specific; she had no idea where to find such a tool. She came across one of the builder’s toolboxes, crouched down on the floor and opened the lid. She rattled her way through various spanners, hammers and chisels. Unfortunately there wasn’t an axe. She decided that a claw hammer would have to suffice. She closed the toolbox lid and walked back to the hole in the floor.

As he waited for Greta, Max thought about his eerie encounter in the tunnel. He decided not to tell Greta about it. He felt he must have imagined it. There was clearly nothing in the tunnel and there was no way, whatever it was, could have left without getting past Greta, unless there was another way out. He convinced himself it must have been rats. Nothing more. He heard the thud of a tool hitting the ground and walked over to retrieve it. Holding the hammer in annoyance, he looked up towards Greta, who was perched over the entrance.

“I asked for an axe! Are you all right?” he called.

“Couldn’t find one, sorry,” Greta replied. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just waiting for you to bring the booty up,” she smiled. “I am getting really excited about it now!”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a moment. Once I get this door open.”

“It must have jammed last night, when we left,” Greta added. She knew, however, that the door had been left open.

“Hmm, something like that,” Max’s voice became muffled as he walked away from Greta.

Max began to relentlessly beat the hammer against the latch, which remained tightly closed. Sparks from the metal being hit upon metal cascaded in the semi-darkness as he worked to release the door. After a good ten minutes of labour, he sat down on the ground, out of breath. “This is crazy!” he thought. “It just doesn’t want to budge. Something is stopping it.” He got up and threw his weight against the door. It still held hard. Max was becoming tired. He leant against the wall of the tunnel and wiped his forehead.

“How are you getting on? Have you opened it yet?” Greta yelled down into the hole.

“No, it’s not moving an inch!”

“Shall I come down to see if I can help?” Greta suggested.

“Sure, try your luck. You might have the magic touch!” Max sarcastically replied. “Don’t fall down the hole this time! Use the ladder!”

Greta carefully made her descent from the kitchen, looking down at each rung of the ladder before she slowly placed her foot down. She eventually joined Max in the tunnel.

“Yesterday, it was fine; it opened with only minimal effort. I wonder why it won’t open now.” Greta took hold of the latch and pulled.

“You tell me. It’s as if something is trying to stop us getting inside.”

Greta opened her mouth to speak but decided against it. She heaved with all her might on the latch. On the second attempt the latch gave way and creaked open.

“Well, you certainly do have the magic touch, well done, love!” Max was relieved but a little perturbed his wife had been the one to open the door.

Greta was reluctant to step inside.

“I wonder if it wouldn’t open for a reason. It’s like we were prevented from entering; from taking the box of gold. Do you think it’s a sign, Max?”

“No, I don’t think so. After all, we, well,
you
made the discovery in the first place didn’t you? That was meant to happen, to bring us to this tunnel and find the treasure. If you hadn’t have fallen through the floor then we would have been none the wiser of what was lying underneath the cottage.” Max felt the need to inject some positive vibes to the situation.

“Suppose so,” Greta looked to the floor. “Do you mind going inside to get the box, I don’t want to. I get this feeling that something isn’t right. Stupid of me, but my gut instinct is telling us to get the hell out of here and leave the box where it is.”

“You aren’t serious, surely?” Max stopped in the doorway. “What’s making you feel like that?”

“I don’t know, I just have this overwhelming feeling… I feel really spooked.”

“Is that because I told you about my dream of that girl?” Max quizzed.

“It might be. But…” Greta swallowed slowly. “Well, I wasn’t going to tell you this, but last night… I experienced something… similar.” She elaborated on the truth somewhat. “It was a dream, although it felt like it… I mean, well, it, er, the girl, was possibly the same girl as you saw in your dream, was actually in the our room. It read -
sorry -
said
… the same thing to me to
be careful.
I didn’t say anything to you this morning as I thought you wouldn’t believe me. It must be a coincidence. They say married couples tend to think along the same lines.”

“You aren’t making an awful lot of sense. Read? What did it read?” Max was confused. “And, yes, we might be on the same wavelength, but after being together considerably longer than we already have.” Max was intrigued that Greta had the same experience. “You know I am not one for all that spooky stuff and that I will only believe in ghosts if I see one. I can honestly say that at this present moment, I still remain unconvinced. But what you were saying earlier, about it read…?” Max folded his arms.

“Oh nothing, I was getting muddled up. So what about the noise down here, earlier?” Greta was unnerved.

“Noise? Oh probably rats. Nothing more; nothing to worry about.” Max shrugged off Greta’s concerns.

“Well, that’s definitely made my mind up,” Greta shuddered. “I am getting out of here, right now! And you must too. Sod the gold. Rats, spooks, it’s all too much for me. To think there might be something down here is completely freakish. And why was the door jammed shut? I don’t like this at all, Max. I am baling out, right now!”

“But you opened it…” Max called after Greta who was already bumbling back along the passageway to the ladder, flicking cobwebs from her hair and shuddering as she did so.

“Never been so bloody sure in all my life!” she yelled.

“What about the box of booty that could change your life?” Max looked back down the passageway.

“I am happy enough with my life without it, or any ghosts, thanks very much!”

“But I’m not,” muttered Max. “A strange noise or two won’t stop me!” He grabbed the edge of the door and
pulled it open. To his amazement, the door appeared to come to life and violently slammed in front of him, narrowly missing taking the tips of his fingers off. It made rivers of dust and sand fall from around the frame. Max jumped back in shock. “Well, perhaps that might just stop me for today!” he decided and stumbled back towards the ladder. “I think I need a Scotch!”