A thought occurred as she reached the unsecured front door. Dr Carter had said that Bert sometimes imagined his mother was still alive. What if her spirit still clung to the land? What if she was still here, imprisoned by the house which encompassed so much misery? The front door emitted a rusty screech as Jennifer pushed it open, wishing it was a little brighter inside. As soon as she stepped in the hall she felt like an imposter, and it took all her strength not to turn around. Her eyes flicked up to the cobwebbed ceiling, and a wide-legged spider retreated into its web. Jennifer stiffened, reaching for the door handle of the room on the right. As she twisted the cold metal doorknob, she focused on the energies in the house, stepping back to a time when it was infused with life. As she pushed open the door, her eyes were drawn to a wide stone fireplace, blazing with a fire radiating a yesteryear heat. It was then that Jennifer saw her first embodiment, and froze to the spot. It should not have come as such a surprise, given her previous encounters with the supernatural. She was used to picking up voices, like an old radio channel filtering through her mind. But a real-life ghost? She looked just like a normal person, rocking in her chair. It was Bert’s mother; the grief lining her face told Jennifer all she needed to know. Her hair was scraped back in a bun, and her pallid flesh encased a withered body frozen in time. She wore a long black skirt that brushed the ground each time her rocking chair bowed forward. Yet Jennifer knew from the glazed expression and listless energy she was a shadow of the past. The ghostly apparition could not cause her harm, but just like in her dreams, her body perceived the situation as a threat, and Jennifer’s heart thundered in her ears as she forced herself to stand her ground.

The room dimmed as Bert’s elderly mother curled her arthritic fingers around the arms of the wooden chair and set it to a halt. The corners of her mouth turned downwards as she craned her head in Jennifer’s direction, raising a bony finger in the air.

‘Get. Out. Of. My. House.’

Jennifer’s heart felt as if it was going to beat out of her chest as she faced the shadow of what once was. The room temperature dropped steadily until it was icy cold. Jennifer’s words carried on frosted breath as she uttered the words, ‘Mrs Bishop, I need your help. It’s about Bertram.’

The woman’s eyes blazed at the mention of Bert’s name. ‘What do you want with him?’

Jennifer tugged her jacket around her shivering body. ‘I’m looking for my friend Will, and I think Bert may know where he is. Has he brought anyone here?’

Bert’s mother relaxed into her rocker, setting it back in motion. ‘I’m waiting for Callum. He’ll be home soon. Bert’s in bed. He’s a sickly child.’

Jennifer sighed. She was not going to get any assistance from a dead woman’s ghost and it was time to move on. ‘Mrs Bishop, I don’t think it’s good for you to stay here.’

‘I’m waiting for Callum.’

‘He’s waiting for you, Mrs Bishop. He’s been waiting a very long time. Don’t you want to go to him?’ Jennifer swallowed, mystified at the words leaving her mouth. It was not the first time she found herself uttering words she did not understand, but if they provided comfort then she was happy to continue.

The woman’s face clouded over, the frailty of her soul laid bare. ‘I … I can’t leave the house.’

‘Yes you can. You don’t need it any more. Let it go. When you feel Callum’s presence, step up and take his hand. But you don’t need to stay here. There is so much more for you, if you can find the strength to leave.’

But she wouldn’t. At least not yet, and she returned her gaze to the fire as it hissed and spat orange sparks that went nowhere, delivering heat that could not be felt. Slowly Jennifer left the sad figure, and wandered through the rest of the house, her ear sharply attuned to the flapping of the ravens gathering on the fence outside. She rubbed the back of her hand. It had healed well, but the small scar would serve as a reminder of her stubbornness, and inability to ask for help for fear of looking like a fool. She checked her mobile phone, the absence of calls a painful reminder that time was running out. Five minutes. She would give herself five minutes and leave.

Every room door was ajar and she was relieved to see the loft hatch gaping open, its mouth an empty chasm as sharp-clawed rodents scurried overhead. Officers would have already searched the gloomy space, which meant she didn’t need to. The oppression in the house grew with every second that passed, until the derelict building took on a life of its own. I shouldn’t be here, she thought. Not only was she under a ceiling that may well give way, her presence was most unwelcome, and the birds that had swooped to attack her were now gathering outside.

Jennifer ventured into the kitchen as the building groaned above her. Small black pebbles of droppings littered every counter, and in the absence of food, there lay empty bread wrappers, chewed by rodent teeth. It felt as if a hundred sets of eyes were beating down on her back. She wondered if the attending officers had felt it when they conducted the search. She turned to leave, passing each ramshackle room until she came to the largest bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was caked in a layer of dust. The peeling sash window allowed generous light to flood over the rusted metal bedstead, and she guessed it was Bert’s room. Her heels echoed as she walked across the cold wooden floor, and she imagined a small hungry boy, lying on the sunken mattress as he stared at the oak tree outside. She pulled back the damp mouldy blankets and lingered long enough only to check under the bed. Another wave of despair passed over her. Will was not there. He never had been.

She turned on her heel and made her way to the hall, but the noise of the ravens suggested there were more than one or two waiting for her exit. She peered through the gap in the door, catching her breath as she caught sight of the black feathered sentries gathered on the fence. A horrifying sense of dread enveloped her as she realised she would have to pass them on her way out. Why didn’t I park the car nearer? she thought. If the birds attacked, they could do a lot of harm in the precious minutes it would take her to reach it. Tapping her fingers against her bottom lip, she formulated a plan. She picked up an empty milk bottle from the floor and pressed the central locking button through the gap in the door. A chorus of excited caws ensued as her car beeped in response, and they flapped and danced on the fence in preparation for their prey. They’ll rip me to shreds, Jennifer whispered as she backed away. She would get only one chance. She had to be quick or she would pay the consequences.

She returned to the kitchen, holding her breath as she slowly turned the handle of the back door. Relief flooded through her as it opened, and she tentatively slid out, tiptoeing through the undergrowth at the side of the house. The front of the house was black with ravens, their beady eyes focused on the front door. She flung the milk bottle, sending it rebounding on the front porch, startling the ravens long enough to race to her car. Soon she was safely inside, sending gravel shooting in her wake as she raced down the driveway for home.

Jennifer dropped her car keys onto the hall dresser. Her stomach growled to remind her she had not yet eaten, having been sick with stress all day. She opened the fridge door, gulping back the last of her mineral water. Pulling out a block of cheese, she laid it on the chopping board next to a chunk of bread. She checked her watch. It granted her enough time for a quick shower before Christian came around. She needed to wash away the dark barbs that clung from the horrors of the day. But the feeling of Will’s presence had grown stronger since she came home, each step inside telling her she was missing something, something she should have known. She tore off some bread and nibbled on enough cheese to silence her rumbling stomach. Hopping up the stairs, she turned the shower to the hottest setting and slipped off her clothes. A creeping sensation on the nape of her neck made her whirl around, a shriek emitted through her lips as she faced the steamed-up mirror. There, in the midst of her distress, the answer came. She knew where Will was. It had been staring her in the face all along.