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infestation to his mind was rats.
    The door to the last attic was so low they had to duck almost double to get through.  The room was small, a mere twelve feet by fifteen feet. Straightening up the priest said, ‘D’you hear that?’
    Douglas groaned inwardly – rats again – for God ’s sake; that's all it was – rats.  Irritated his eyes lit upon what looked like a regency writing desk with matching chair both wrapped in plastic. Frowning he walked over, unaware of a mist rising from the floor, sneaking around his heels. He must have missed this when they cleared the attics, but how was that possible?  It looked to be a fine piece of antique furniture. 
    As he began unwrapping the desk, the priest shouted making him jump back.     
    ‘Look at the wall man – would ye look at that now.’ 
    Douglas raised his head to see a slime the colour of mucous dripping down the wood, the smell of rotting eggs brought bile to his throat.
    O’Reilly ripping off the plastic, lifted the lid of the desk, his small eyes widened in horror, as he leapt back shouting, ‘ In the name of the Christ in all his purity, I abjure thee, get thee hence. Leave this place and harm us no more .’ 
    Douglas muttered, ‘For God’s sake; they're only maggots.   
    O’Reilly whispered, ‘Tis the sign of infestation – the devil.  Some of the haunting is to do with this desk. We must take it out of here, bring it into the light. Come there is more to do.’
    ‘Yes Father, I’ll see to it tomorrow.’ 
    So far, the second and first floors proved to be clear of any more ghostly signs yet the priest insisted on carrying out a purification act and blessing of each room.  Douglas sighed, just a couple of more rooms, and they were done.  He found the whole thing frustrating and banal.  They were living in the twenty-first century for God’s sake, and here he was participating in medieval rites.
    As they opened the door to the Mermaid Suite, Douglas said, ‘Well Father two more rooms to─’ A fierce wind cut off his words, punching him from the room, sleet stinging his face. The priest fought back struggling into the room, croaking, ‘ O Lord deliver us from every tempest, from every lightning.’
    Douglas h is body straining against what seemed to be a force nine gale, pushed his way to the balcony windows battling to shut them.  To his confusion, the night was calm outside the room, the trees unmoving; the moon scudding across a cloudless sky.
    The priest’s voice grated out the words, ‘ Sancti Spiritus, audi nos – audi nos. ‘Our Father deliver us from evil, let Christ’s angels hover over us...let the archangels ...’  The room quiete d as if something was listening.  Father O’Reilly whispered, ‘Can you... smell that?
    ‘What?’
    ‘Seaweed  ...
    Douglas stopped abruptly as he saw the  priest glance into the corner of the room the candlelight diffused with swirling dust motes sparkling in the moonlight, circling, forming a shape.  He strained his ears to catch something – singing – surely not.  He caught the words, “Bye Baby....”
    Lifting the candlestick high the little priest advanced towards it whispering, ‘ Spiritus Sancti... exaudi nos... exaudi nos... Go back, go back. Begone.’ 
    Despite himself, Douglas found the skin on his arms crawling, the back of his neck becoming rigid, as he watched O’Reilly lay the consecrated host on the floor before it.
    Slowly stepping back, he gestured for Douglas to leave the room as he incanted,    Vos vostum ut redo hic. Vos es defaeco Deus.  Gentius quod hi icentia is locus tarsus quod plenu of venia. May angelus rector vos ut lux lucis.  You are purified in the eyes of God. Begone – leave this place clean and full of grace. May the angels guide you to the light.’
    As the priest slammed the door behind him, the figure sighed floating back to the bed, but it was not the new magnificent four-poster bed now installed, but a smaller older one,