Page 76 of Murder Most Haunted
‘Cup of tea?’ said Harold, who’d joined them after lighting the fire. ‘My Linda says there’s nothing a cup of tea can’t fix.’
‘Does it bring people back from the dead, Harold?’ asked Rona, her voice getting higher with each word. ‘Does it stop people from being murdered? Because if not, I do not want another cup of your fucking tea!’
Harold’s face fell. ‘I was just trying to—’
‘And Linda left you... remember? So, it clearly didn’t fix your marriage either, did it?’
‘I’m well aware that Linda has left me,’ said Harold, stiffly. ‘And just because you’re a pop star doesn’t give you the right to talk to people like that. You should watch yourself.’
Rona suddenly started screaming, banging her hands down on the table with such force it shook the saucers. ‘What the hell does that mean? Are you threatening me?! Did everyone hear that? If I’m dead tomorrow, remember that!’
‘I’m not threatening you,’ said Harold, picking some lint from his cycling trousers. ‘But you should be thanking me, not being rude.’ Which Midge thought a very odd thing to say, and apparently she wasn’t the only one.
‘Thanking you?’ yelled Rona. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Nothing.’ Harold swallowed. ‘It’s just an expression. Calm down.’
‘Calm down!’ said Rona. ‘What woman in the history of womanhood has ever calmed down after being told to calm down? Two murders in one weekend and you’re telling me to calm down?’
‘We’ve only got her word for it that Rendell was murdered,’ said Harold, pointing at Midge.
‘I bet it was you, Harold!’ shouted Rona. ‘I mean, let’s get real. You didn’t like either of them very much, did you?’
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Harold.
‘It’s a bit of a leap from “not liking someone” to lurking around in bathrooms waiting to slit their throat,’ commented Noah.
‘He hated the police, didn’t he? All that mining bollocks,’ said Rona.
‘Iamhere,’ complained Harold.
‘And Rendell hadn’t paid him for a long time. That’s a motive.’
‘It’s in the past,’ said Harold, dismissively. ‘If I had a seat for every person who’s ever pissed me off, I’d have a very full coach.’
Midge shifted her legs and rubbed at her knee, the trousers catching on her rough palm.
‘It’s not like you haven’t got form for lying. All that stuff about Linda,’ said Rona.
‘Hey! I’m not the only one who’s been lying,’ said Harold. He pointed at Midge, much to her surprise. ‘She’s not being completely honest either.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ asked Noah.
‘She’s a detective,’ announced Harold, shrugging.
Chapter48
Extract fromThey Do It With Stringspodcast
‘The Tin House’: Episode Four
Noah:One of the strongest points of evidence for the authenticity of a particular paranormal activity is when patterns of behaviour are reported by more than one source and these accounts corroborate each other accurately and consistently. It is always exciting for a paranormal investigator to unearth just these types of phenomena. Such moments are the jewels in the ethereal tiara of the spectral world.
So, imagine my excitement at finding the following entry buried deep within Dr Rawlings’ journal.
‘Between March and April of 1872, I was regularly called to Atherton Hall to sedate a disturbed and agitated master. Lord Rupert Atherton had become a shell of his former self, emaciated and withdrawn. He appeared as a man tortured by his own shadow. Food no longer held any interest for him and all sense seemed to have fled his mind. His days were spent flickering between wild bouts of laughing, interspersed by severe headaches and vomiting. His voice, hoarse from the screams, will forever haunt me. The only coherent words in his all too brief moments of lucidity referred to the White Lady, who it seemed tortured his own sleep as much as that of his kin.’
Which begs the question, how did Rupert Atherton eventually die?
