Read Online The Haunting of Highdown Hall by Shani Struthers - Free Book Online Page A

Cynthia’s still here?”
    “Hopefully we’ll find out soon enough but as far as theory goes her passing was sudden, unexpected. It could be she doesn’t realise she’s passed.”
    Cash was unconvinced.
    “Even after all this time?”
    “In the spirit world, I don’t think time’s an issue.”
    Ruby returned her attentions to the house; the interior was even more impressive than the exterior. Surveying her surroundings, she moved over to the far wall.
    “A portrait of Cynthia used to hang here,” she stated, as much to herself as Cash. “I’m sure she’s not best pleased it’s been taken down.”
    To the left of the Grand Hall was another room, partially panelled this time and not just impressive but magnificent in its sheer size and grandeur, even though not a stick of furniture inhabited it now, apart from a couple of hard-backed chairs and a side table, somewhat randomly placed. Cynthia may have left the house to Sally Threadgold, but either the star’s family or friends had descended like vultures on its contents or Sally had sold them all off one-by-one to pay the no doubt vast running costs. It was also impressively clean. Had Sally kept it that way or had Mr Kierney brought in a team of professionals upon arrival to do the honours?
    “What’s this room?” breathed Cash, looking about him.
    “The ballroom I think,” Ruby answered, also awe-struck.
    Crossing the floorboards, several protesting as she did so, Ruby stopped by the first of two sets of French windows. Even now, in the depths of winter, the light poured in through them, animating the room. Ruby could easily imagine the parties that had taken place here; memories of which must be ingrained in the very walls themselves. Lavish, exciting parties, everyone focussed on having a good time, the time of their lives for some. But there were troubled spots too, definitely. A sense of something dark, anger and frustration in particular. Residual feelings – faint now, but very real to someone once.
    Moving out of the ballroom and back into the Grand Hall, they explored further; the study, bereft of a writing desk and cosy fire, the library, where just a few books stood guard on recessed shelves, and the dining room, heavy red drapes with a golden pattern, the only adornment. The living room did have a few home comforts, including a large-screened TV, a coffee table and a modern-looking sofa bed pulled-out to full capacity, the dark blue duvet on top a rumpled mess. Ruby could feel nothing out of the ordinary in any of them. The kitchen too, not cosy but functional, very much a workplace, was completely free of spiritual presence. Briefly, Ruby wondered if Cynthia had even known where the kitchen was.
    “Let’s go upstairs,” she said to Cash, returning again to the Grand Hall and heading for the staircase. As she did so, she couldn’t help but notice him blanch a little at her words. Ah, you’re not as confident as you like to make out, she thought.
    The staircase too was awe-inspiring. Built of oak that had darkened considerably with age, Ruby could just imagine the effort various maids must have put in through the ages to keep it in tip top condition. She half expected to see the shade of some young nineteenth or twentieth century servant sitting on a step rubbing feverishly at a barley twist spindle as she climbed the stairs. Instead, only dust motes danced in the air. Each newel post was adorned with a heavily carved, almost ecclesiastical urn-shaped carving. As Ruby passed the half landing, she couldn’t resist running her hand over the carving, knowing that Cynthia must have done the same thing too, many times over.
    At the top of the stairs was a corridor with several doors leading presumably into bedrooms. Putting that theory to the test, she counted seven in total. Only three had beds in them, surprisingly modern looking beds, and wardrobes too, again modern in style rather than antique, brought from Mr Kierney’s flat perhaps or