MAGDALENA'S GHOST: THE HAUNTING OF THE HOUSE IN GALLOWS LANE Read Online Free PDF Page A

and look at this.” He took a box of matches from his pocket and lit one.
    “I’m right behind you,” she whispered nervously, as her fingers gripped his shirt for support. She had no intentions of straying anywhere without him inside a house with no electrics and looking like the black hole of Calcutta.
    He was staring at an old black Yorkshire range, in front of which stood an ancient looking and well-worn, rocking chair. An old woollen blanket which was grey in colour was strewn on the floor. Above the range was a large clothes rack suspended from the ceiling, a few odds and ends still visibly clinging to it.
    “This will be worth a fortune,” he said eagerly.
    “What will?” she asked sarcastically, her voice now at full volume.
    “This Yorkshire range, you don’t see many of these anymore.” He winced as the match burnt his fingers before dying a death, and he quickly dropped it on the floor and lit another.
    But Lucy wasn’t impressed, and she didn’t like being in the house either. She still felt like a trespasser and she also felt as if they were being watched. She looked around just in case, but of course they were alone – she knew that deep down inside. But her mind still wandered back to the old woman who she thought she had seen earlier.
    Anton led her through to the next room. As he stood in what looked to be the main sitting room, he stared around in amazement. It was a big room with lots of daylight coming in from two large windows which had wooden shutters held back in place. The floor was bare of carpet and there were no window dressings either. But Anton’s attention was focused on a grand piano which stood in the far corner of the room. It was covered in decades of dust, which had weaved itself together, over time, to form what looked like a fisherman’s net draped across it. It must have been left alone and abandoned for a lifetime to end up in that condition. A piano stool with a well-worn upholstered seat was placed in front of it, and apart from one sheet propped up on the music rest, others were scattered around the floor. Everything was in the same condition as the piano.
    There was an old bookcase full of books positioned against a wall, and the odd chair here and there, plus a big old-fashioned dining table, but not much else. He walked over and browsed through the books, they were mainly educational, many of which were books on art and sculpture, but they were badly damaged with mould and mildew and were hardly legible.
    He picked up some of the deteriorating music sheets and placed them on the top of the piano stool carefully, as if he’d been appointed as custodian of someone’s treasures. And they probably had been someone’s treasures once.
    They walked into a rather grand old hall with an ancient, wide, curved staircase with very old spindled balustrading. None of it bore any sign of carpets, just exposed wood. The dark, bare and deteriorating walls showed only dim signs of faded paintwork which was grey with age and soiled heavily from years of neglect. Cobwebs hung from every corner and were draped loosely from ceiling to wall. Someone must have once helped themselves to all of the carpets, as even old houses often have threadbare remains. But this house had nothing apart from dust and cobwebs which were plentiful.
    Lucy felt as if she’d walked into someone else’s past, it was grim and scary, and she wished Anton would get the hell out of there and retreat to the comfort of their van and get on with their planned journey for the day.
    “C’mon Luce, I can’t wait to see what it’s like upstairs.” He beckoned her to follow, as he bounded up the stairs two steps at a time until he reached a long arched window at the half-return. He stopped to inspect.
    “Look Luce, this window is all intact – it’s in pretty good nick. That’s good, cos it would be a dreadful shame to have to replace all this beautiful leaded glass with something more contrived.”
    Although