Haunting Grace Read Online Free PDF

continuous circle and everyone who had ever lived in this pub were here with them right now, just hidden by an invisible barrier? What if all past worlds had never actually passed but continued to exist around us and all each new generation did was to build upon the last one? Grace shuddered at the thought. No, she had drunk too much wine. It was time to get herself away from this nonsense.
     
    “Harry, thank you for our lovely chat, but I am so tired and think that perhaps I have had a tiny bit too much wine. Will you let Kate know that I have gone back to the hotel, oh, and would you give this to her please? Just tell her it’s for Lisa.” Grace reached inside her bag and put the wrapped book on the table.
    “Of course I will. Can I see you back to your hotel, Grace?”
    “No... no... really, I will be fine. A bit of fresh air and a good night’s sleep is all I need. Thanks again for a great chat, Harry. It is very nice to know you.”
    “And it is very nice to know you, young Grace. I hope you will come back and see me again. I have something I would like to show you.”
     
    ********
     
    There were no dreams for Grace that night, just deep and peaceful sleep and Saturday morning arrived with all the promise of a beautiful winter’s day.
     
    She chose to have her breakfast in a quaint little cafe, just around the corner from the hotel. The city was a bustle of weekend tourists and shoppers. Resolved to spend a quiet day alone, Grace headed away from the hustle and towards the art gallery. A water fountain stood in front of the building. Mesmerised by the jets of water, she sat down on a bench and just watched as people came and went around her. The Kings Manor House stood to the side of the art gallery and, fascinated by the building, she made her way slowly over to it.
    How easy it would be to accept Harry’s theory, she thought as she studied the ancient brickwork. It was almost possible to feel the history oozing from the building. There was an almost magnetic tension around the place that held her, transfixed. The whole city was much the same. Every square inch of the place was soaked in history, traumatic, violent and bloody history. If only these walls could talk, she thought.
     
    The sun was setting by the time she found herself back in the inner city. Most of the weekend shoppers had left and the number of tourists was starting to dwindle. A peaceful calm settled around the Minster as Grace headed back to the hotel. She couldn’t make up her mind whether to grab a sandwich and take it back to her room for dinner or make her way up to one of the pubs. She didn’t much fancy the idea of bumping into Harry again. Grace liked him; he seemed a nice man with a very friendly way about him. But she hadn’t yet decided what to think about his theory. It all seemed too bizarre for words, yet when she thought about it there were some things that made sense. Logic told her it was all rubbish, just the ramblings of an old man. Yet he seemed so grounded, so sensible. Grace’s mind swam with it all. The man in her dreams, the portrait, the man on Stonegate. If it weren’t for Harry and Kate, Grace would have put it all down to neurosis.  Jack had always maintained she was mad. She needed time, time to get her head straight and time to think. It had been a traumatic week, the most traumatic she had ever known, and now here she was trying to reason whether ghosts were real or imagined.
     
    Having bought herself a sandwich filled with warm roast pork and apple sauce she found a bench in St Helen’s square, outside the Swarovski shop, and sat quietly reading and eating her dinner until the air became too cold and the light too dim to continue. Sliding her book neatly back into her bag, she headed home to her hotel room.
     
    Flicking the switch on the kettle, she dropped two lumps of sugar, a spoon of coffee and two spoons of creamer into a cup. She could feel his eyes upon her as she made her coffee. But she