Page 21 of The Haunting of William Thorn

“He was known as Teddy . A young man sent to the countryside by his family in hopes of hiding from the brewing tension in the 1930s. So you see, he couldn’t possibly be the one you saw. He died a very long time ago.”

William needed fresh air. As her words settled over him, the walls seemed to cave in, threatening to swallow him whole. He didn’t even remember if he said thank you or managed any other words. Because all he could focus on was the name and the truth that came with it.

Teddy. Robert’s Teddy. The one from the journal. The man who tended to the gardens, just as Robert’s own writing confirmed. Whoever William had met yesterday had lied – but more than could’ve been imagined.

Unless…

“No,” William said to himself, steeling his expression on the path back to Hanbury. “I’m not playing this game anymore.”

He wouldn’t believe the seed of doubt the people of Stonewell had planted. All the talks of ghosts, hauntings and deaths. It was getting to him – playing tricks on him. For all he knew, Barbara had the same goal as Mike, just using the cover of kindness to scare William into leaving for good.

Because the Edward from last night had been real. He had touched William, helped him… comforted him.

Suddenly, coat or not, he didn’t want to see this Edward ever again. Or whoever – whatever – he was.

The clink of the glass was his only companion as he trekked back toward Hanbury Manor.

Cold winds ripped around him, and his arms ached from holding the bag close to his chest. Every step closer to his new home became harder to take, as though he was wading through mud, his body refusing him.

William lost himself to his thoughts, replaying the interaction with Mike over and over.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Robert and how he’d allegedly killed himself in the manor.

But where? What had driven such a spritely man to his own demise?

Part of William wanted to read more of the journal, to piece together the story, whereas the other part demanded him to call his solicitor.

So, he did just that. Stopping just shy of the ford that separated Hanbury from Stonewell – at least one thing Edward didn’t lie about – he made most of his phone signal and dialled the number of the law firm that worked on behalf of his late partner.

The phone rang and rang until the answering machine message beeped in his ear.

“ Fucksake – Hello, this is William Thorn calling. You worked on behalf of Archie Thomas’s will, and I’ve recently been at your firm for the collection of the keys to Hanbury Manor.

You see, it has come to my attention that someone had…

” he choked on his next words, finding himself whispering them as if the forest around him could hear.

“Killed themselves here. I wasn’t made aware of this information during the process, so I wanted to check what other information your firm may have missed.

I really don’t want to make a fuss about this, but can someone please call me back – no, email me; the signal is spotty here.

I want all the information regarding the death of a Robert Thomas. Sorry for the out-of-the-blue call…”

William ended the call, body locked in tremors of anger. He thought he did well keeping most of it back, but if he hadn’t cut the call when he did he thought there would’ve been a few very loud swear words offered at the end.

There was a sliver of regret which simmered beneath his fury. He never liked speaking to people like that, although it had become far too regular since Archie’s death. Like the grief had severed his ability to control himself.

Either way, it was done. He did deserve answers as to why he wasn’t made aware of the suicide.

Even if he knew he should’ve asked the question in the first place.

All he knew was of an Archibald who also died in a war, who left the house to his young wife who was with child.

His Archie’s family line. There was no mention of Robert, he was sure of it.

Yet it seemed this Robert was more a part of Hanbury than anyone else.

Picking up his pace, William bee-lined for the manor.

He wasn’t about to let everything he learned ruin his time here.

He’d sunk enough of his and Archie’s savings into the plans of extensions and interior design, and it wasn’t about to be a waste, ghosts or not.

Strange men pretending to be dead gardeners from the 1930s or not.

Hanbury was his. Hell, if he needed to order sage from Amazon to cleanse the manor himself, he’d do it.

Sticking on the slip-through country path cut the journey to Hanbury in half. Thank God for the minimal phone signal, because he managed to get back before the Map’s app on his phone lost connection.

Hanbury Manor came into view so suddenly that it turned those fighting thoughts into simmering whimpers.

It was as if the tree line parted, and the woodlands opened up – only to reveal the hidden gem.

Just as it had when William first saw the property, he fell in love with the possibility of what it could be.

It took his breath away, snatched it from his lungs and kept it hostage, but for entirely different reasons.

The sun beat down on him from the cloudless sky, offering an inkling of heat that cut through the cold day.

Sweat gathered across his brow and caused his T-shirt to stick to his body.

It was a strange feeling, being both cold and warm.

He wanted to get inside, lock the world away, and make amends with the manor whilst also wanting to run away from it.

There was something rather alluring about it. It was hypnotising almost, despite its dark past.

As William continued the final stretch, something caught his eye.

Movement from his side. He stopped, dead in his tracks, and peered through the wall of trees.

He saw a stone between them. It took him a moment to make sense of it, but he soon understood what he was seeing was the gatehouse. The one Robert’s Teddy had lived in.

And there, leaned against the ivy-devoured stone wall, cigarette hanging from his lower lip, was Edward – or whoever he really was.

William lowered the bag and laid it carefully on the ground. He walked around the side on light feet, careful to stay out of the liar’s line of sight. It was going well until a branch cracked beneath his foot.

Edward spun, gasping in surprise. But the sound soon became a howl of pain as William cracked his fist into a very hard, very real jaw.

If anything, punching him proved to William that this man was at least not a ghost himself.

“Shit – William,” Edward bellowed, his cigarette lost on the ground beneath him. He clutched the side of his face, mouth a gasp as a small trickle of blood oozed between his fingers. “What the hell was that for?”

“You lied to me,” William shouted, stepping in close and pressing a finger into Edward’s chest. “A lot.”

For the first time, Edward didn’t speak. But it didn’t matter because William was talking enough for the both of them. Out of all the questions he wanted to ask, all the accusations swimming in his mind, there was one topic that William needed answers to first.

“Where’s Archie’s coat?”

“His what?” he replied, words muffled by his swollen lip and the hand above it.

“The red coat I had in bed last night!” William shouted so loud that the forest around him ached with the noise. “You took it. It was there, I always have it with me. But when I woke up this morning, it was gone, and so were you .”

He barely took a breath, his voice rising in pitch until it cracked on his final word.

Edward looked skyward for a moment. “Is this the moment I remind you that you told me to leave. The storm had passed, so I did as I promised. And I didn’t take your coat.”

“Is this your idea of leaving… hiding out in the shadows on my land?”

A flush filled his cheeks. “Urm, about that…”

“Where. Is. The. Coat .” William forced his finger deeper into Edward’s chest until he was sure the nail was pinching through the material.

“Cross my heart and hope to die, I swear to you, I didn’t take it.

” He lifted his arms in surrender, giving William the first look over the damage he did to his mouth.

The lip had split, the gash angry and weeping.

He felt a sense of regret for a moment, but that didn’t last long.

Not when he remembered all of this man’s other lies.

“Why, on God’s green earth, should I believe you? I mean, come on! Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

He shook his head, feigning somewhat believable confusion. “William, you need to calm down and tell me what the problem is… besides the accusation that I stole a coat I’ve never seen before.”

“You. You’re the problem,” William shouted, tearing his fingers back and balling them into fists, which made the stranger step back. “Your name. Where you come from – the gardening. You lied about it all. And you are still here! Who the fuck are you?”

“I didn’t lie about anything.”

“That’s not what I’ve been told.” Actually, William hadn’t been told Edward lied exactly. He was told that Edward didn’t exist. At least not in over eighty years.

Urged by all his uncontrolled fury, he snatched a large branch from the ground and held it up. William was confident he caught the slightest of smirks across the man’s face, but it didn’t last. “I’m giving you one last chance to tell me the truth, or you’ll meet my friend.”

“Friend?”

William hoisted the branch up in threat and promise. “Ah, this friend.”

“Steady there, Gandalf.”

The Lord of the Rings reference wasn’t wasted on William, but he was in too much of a violent mood to accept it. “Spit it out, or I swear I’ll–”

“My name is Edward, and I am from Stonewell – although I get the impression you found out I don’t live there… currently.”

“I… did.” William jolted the branch, making the man wince.