Carver's Hollow

CARVER'S HOLLOW

A Story of ghosts, wickedness, survival, and contentment.

A work of fiction by Bruce Fisher

Copyright 2010 by Bruce Fisher

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Chapter 1

North West England, April 1967.

Bloody hell, Glor, you can't hold out forever. This is the sixties not the thirties. Simon broke all physical contact and shuffled a few feet along the park bench, showing a long face like a child who had been denied his candy.

The bench stood back amongst some holly bushes, overhung by young oak trees and they were perched high on a bank overlooking the town of Locksford. Gloria had not wanted to stop there, knowing that her soldier boyfriend would be sure to try it on in such a secluded location. She sighed. The same dreary old line, can't you be a bit more original, Simon? She looked at him and shook her head, aware of his frustration because he was getting nowhere in his efforts to seduce her. The springtime sun was setting and she looked towards the park gates, thinking it was perhaps time to make their way into town. As she looked back at Simon, a large flying beetle landed on the leg of his trousers. He quickly knocked it off. Gloria grinned as he checked the material of his army uniform. He followed by looking down to his boots to check that their walk through the park had not spoiled the shine. She knew that his appearance was important to him, an obsession almost. He always looked immaculate, even when he was drunk, which was often.

Simon moved back along the bench and put an arm around Gloria's shoulder. She waited for his next move, hoping he would give up his pestering for sex. He kissed her again and she welcomed his kisses, responding with a similar passion, but she wondered if his affection was a sign that he understood and respected her views on pre-marital sex, or if he was just continuing to try to take her down a road she had no wish to travel.

His right hand was gently rubbing at the back of her neck. She knew his moves and was fully expecting it when his hand travelled down her shoulder and onto one of her breasts. She didn't like him groping at her breasts. Squashing and pushing like a baker's apprentice trying to knead some dough. She had only let him have that concession the week before, his victory, his success, but far from making him content, she now found that she would often have to stop him from trying to get his hand inside her blouse. She knew if she let him have that further concession he would start trying to unhook her bra. He would always want more. She had taken one step down the road he wanted to take, but was adamant she would take no more, not yet anyway.

As they kissed, Simon's other hand moved onto her leg and inched up the inside of her thigh, as if she wouldn't notice if he moved slow enough. Without breaking from their embrace, she pushed his hand away. A normal counter move in their relationship, but a moment later his hand was back on her leg. She pulled away from him and stood up. Come on then, let's go. It'll be getting dark soon and I don't want to be up here when it does.

Oh, Gloria, let's not go just yet. We were just getting relaxed, just getting going. Even if we can't agree on what a full loving relationship should be, you must admit it's nice kissing and cuddling and that, in private.

Private, in the middle of the park.

Well there's no one about, is there? Bloody hell, can't you give in just for once? It's not as if it's our first date. We've been going out with each other for nearly a year now.

Nine and a half months actually, and you're down at your barracks in London most of the time. You've been on leave twice and had four weekend passes. I've seen some of the patients at the surgery more than I've seen you.

Well, what do you want me to do? Do you want us to get engaged then?

Oh, and you think if we get engaged we can just go ahead and do it in the park like a couple of rabbits?

So that's it, that's the problem. You want somewhere special for our first time. Well, I've still got a bit of money. I can book us in at one of those small hotels in Chester.

How many times do you need telling? I'm not doing any of those sort of things until I'm married; there's no compromise on that. It's the way I am and if you don't like it then perhaps you're with the wrong girl.

That says a lot for how you feel about me then, doesn't it? Simon stood up and briefly looked away before turning to face her again. He put his hands on her shoulders. Bloody hell, Gloria, don't you realise that you're probably the only eighteen year old virgin in town?

Gloria laughed. That won't work, Simon. That's just a myth put about by lads like you. I know lots of girls my age who are still, well you know.

Virgins, the word's virgins. You can say it. It's not a bloody swear word.

Well perhaps you need to remember that, not me.

He moved away again. Look, I haven't mentioned it before because I didn't want to worry you but, well I might be going to Vietnam soon. You know the Australians are already over there, don't you? We'll be next.

And that won't work either. Why can't you take in what I say to you?

Please, Glor, please. Let's do it just once, to show how much we love each other, then I promise I won't pester you again, not until you give the go ahead.

Gloria gave a short, sarcastic laugh. Come on, let's get down to The Coffee Bar.

What's the point? You obviously don't care about me. From what you say, we might as well split up. Might as well call it a day.

Gloria recognised another of Simon's obvious tactics. He had gone into sulk mode. All right, if that's what you want. We'll call it a day, as you put it. She gave a false grin and walked off. She had not been walking long when, as expected, his heavily nailed boots crunched hurriedly along the tarmac path behind her. He caught her up and put his arm around her.

You know I love you, don't you?

And you know I love you too. I wouldn't be here otherwise, would I? Gloria stopped and looked at Simon. I love being with you, when you're not drunk that is, and I get these wonderful sensations when we're kissing, but as soon as you start trying it on, it becomes a struggle, a battle, and all the nice feelings go. She gave him a brief kiss before breaking away and briskly walking off towards the large wrought-iron park gates.

Hold on, Glor. What you don't even want to kiss me now? He hurried after her again and Gloria stopped to let him catch up. He took hold of her hand and led her to a bench-seat just before the gates. As they sat, Simon ran his fingers through her long auburn tresses. I thought you were going to go blonde?

No, that was your idea, not mine. I like my hair the way it is. What's the matter with auburn anyway?

Nothing! What about dyeing it black then?

What about dyeing your hair black?

Lads don't do that, not army lads anyway.

Gloria was anticipating a fond and affectionate embrace in a public area where she could feel safe from his unwanted sexual advances. Might as well call for a few beers then, shall we? he said. You know I don't like sitting in The Coffee Bar, bloody boring.

It's not boring at all, no more boring than sitting in a pub anyway. You just don't want to socialise with my friends.

Too right, who needs to socialise with a load of kids, especially that brat of a sister of yours. She's always having a pop at me and I only suffer it because of you.

She's only having a bit of fun with you. You should know her better by now. Anyway, I'd rather just call at The Coffee Bar after how you behaved in The Nelson last time.

Oh come on, Gloria, how many times do I have to apologise? It won't ever happen again.

No, it won't, because I'm not going in there again. It's always been a dive and it's got a really bad name. All sorts of things go on down there.

All right we'll…

And you change when you get with that crowd, Gloria interrupted. You turn really nasty.

All right, we can call at Kings then. We'll just have a couple in there and then we'll go up your house for a brew and a bit of canoodling in your kitchen.

Gloria smiled. She happily agreed to a couple of drinks because she liked the idea of them calling at her house afterwards. When they were alone in her kitchen, she would still have to sometimes stop his wandering hands, but she always felt more at ease with their embraces. Simon could not take too many liberties while her parents and maybe her sister were just along the passage. Okay, but I'm warning you, we are only having a couple of drinks. I don't want you getting drunk, abusing and insulting me in front of people. Do that to me again and it really will be over between us, and all the teary eyed apologies the next day won't work anymore.

I promised you before, those days are gone. From now on you're gonna be proud to be with me.

Gloria smiled at him. She would love to be proud of him and indeed she was sometimes when they were out together, with him looking so smart and respectable in his uniform. However, as soon as he met some of his friends and started to drink with them, he would change. The dedicated, doting boyfriend became a loud-mouthed oaf seeming to take great pleasure from insulting and humiliating her in front of his friends. She thought on how none of her friends liked him much. Of her family, only her mother liked him, at least Gloria thought she did, but one out of three was not impressive. Her father was not keen on him and her sister could not stand the sight of him.

Come on, he said, let's have a big sexy kiss and a cuddle before we go. Gloria smiled as he reached over to kiss her; she felt safe by the park gates and could relax and enjoy the thrill of their embrace.

Ten minutes later, they crossed the road from the park and made their way, hand in hand, towards the centre of the town and The King's Arms, the liveliest public house in town and the place where Simon had arranged to meet his friends.

In the year 1567, Annie Carver paid a visit to the village of Locksford and as usual, she was ignored by some of the villagers and insulted by others. Annie knew how important the blacksmith was in the village and she knew if she allowed him to resume visiting her at her cottage, he would see that she was made welcome again, but she wouldn't do that. She trusted him years before when he befriended her, but he soon showed his true colours and violated her, returning many times before she fitted locking beams to her cottage door.

She called at the village because of his mistreatment of his hunting dogs and she stood shouting abuse at him, but her words seemed wasted as he laughed at her. Annie walked off and the blacksmith went into his workshop, but he was never to be seen alive again.

Annie went into the woods and stooped down to fill a jug from the stream. It was an eerie place and few would enter the woods at night. The nearby pool was thought to be haunted by ghosts after a girl was drowned there after being accused of bewitching a local family to death. She was tied to a log, screaming her innocence, before being toppled face down into the pool. A young man's body was found in the pool some weeks later; his spirit taken as a companion by the ghost of the girl. The ghosts would be succeeded by others as time passed, but the place would never be free of them until both partners showed forgiveness and kindness to their mortal neighbours.

Annie was not bothered by the stories of the ghosts. She put the jug down on the grass and knelt down, splashing water onto her face before rinsing her long auburn hair in the stream. Her daily ablutions, as usual, were soon completed.

Carver's Hollow. What will they call it after I'm gone? She often spoke to herself, even if other folk were about, believing that they couldn't hear her. But of course she could be heard and everyone in the area knew of Mad Annie who lived by the woods.

As she neared the edge of the woods, she noticed a large rabbit looking over at her. You need not fear me this day, as I have a plump wood pigeon at home waiting to be plucked and boiled, but do not linger here or the dogs may get you. Go on, scat, shoo. As the rabbit turned and scampered off into the woods, Annie heard noises and she looked about her. Who is there? she called.

Do not fear, Mad Annie, it is only us rabbits, the village children called from their hiding places.

Be off, you little demons, she shouted and hurled some sticks at them as they ran off laughing.

She entered the cottage, closed the door and put the beams across. She lived in one end of the single room. The other end was filled with junk and decaying refuse, some of it pulsating with colonies of maggots. The air was full of tiny creatures, a banquet for the fat spiders in the many cobwebs that hung in the room.

A dish of candle wax was on an oak-planked table, the flame flickering in a final dance with the wick. She put the jug on the table and then put some logs under the small cauldron that was hanging down from the flue. After pouring some water into the cauldron, she relaxed in a large throne-like chair, oblivious to the stench from the rotting vegetables and carcasses, but irritated by the beetles crawling over her feet and flies landing on her face.

The flame in the wax finally gave up, but she was not bothered about being in the dark. She knew the logs would soon be burning up giving enough light to pluck, clean, and boil the pigeon for her supper. She was relaxed and unaware that a female spirit had been with her earlier, preparing for its departure.

The next day the hunting dog that the blacksmith had mistreated trotted into the village with a rabbit in its jaws. The children swore it was the rabbit that Annie had been talking to. The days passed with no sign of the blacksmith and the villagers believed that Annie had used witchcraft to turn him into a rabbit to be savaged by the hunting dog. Annie's fate was sealed by the sudden death of one of the village children who had accused her. An angry mob, led by the innkeeper, set off to Annie's cottage.

Annie's door was bashed in by six men ramming it with a log of wood. She was terrified, protesting her innocence and pleading to be released. Her pleas were ignored and she was tied to her chair and tinder wood was piled around her. The mob placed burning torches amongst the tinder wood before going outside and throwing more burning torches up onto the thatched roof. The roof was soon burning fiercely, flames, sparks, and thick white smoke reaching into the sky while chunks of burning thatch were dropping inside.

Suddenly there was no pain. The fire ceased to have an effect on Annie and her spirit stood up free from the ropes that bound her mortal body. She ran outside and sprinted off towards the hollow. The mob chased after her unaware that they were chasing a spirit, and when she dived into the pool and disappeared beneath the water, the villagers could find no sign of her. It was not long before the innkeeper's son was found dead in the pool; Annie had chosen her mate. Their spirits would wander the woods for two hundred years until the man achieved his release. Annie would then be alone again and would have to find an auburn-haired girl to replace her before she could find release and advancement herself.

Chapter 2

Ellis was a new boy in town and he began calling at the local night spots, where others of his age gathered, hoping to make new friends. He often visited The Coffee Bar in the town centre, but this night he chose to call in at The King's Arms first. The choice proved to be a good one.

As he approached the bar entrance, he saw a local lad, Gordy, arguing with three other lads in the car park. He had seen Gordy in the bar a few times, but had never spoken to him. One of the lads began shouting at Gordy and it looked as if things were about to turn nasty. Although it was none of his business, he decided to improve the odds a little and began to make his way over thinking three onto one was not right.

I'm warning you, Gordy, the lad yelled, keep away from my sister or else.

Or else what?

Or else I'll bust your fucking nose.

Gordy gave a short sarcastic laugh. Here's the nose, he said, tapping his nose with his index finger. Get busting, if you think you can. There was a pause, but no one moved. Yeah, all mouth you little mob.

I'm just warning you. Keep away from my sister or there'll be trouble.

I'll tell you what, the three of you. Let's have it now. Let's have some trouble.

Despite the anger and aggression, the three seemed reluctant to take up the challenge. Why don't you just carry on screwing your so called girlfriend, that old boot from the bakery? The girl's brother spoke the insult with a cocky attitude.

I like to put me self about a bit and anyway, one old boot's as good as another and your sister's no glass slipper, is she?

The lad foolishly took a swing at Gordy.

Gordy easily blocked and deflected the blow and followed with a powerful and well-aimed straight punch, catching the lad square on his mouth, splitting his lips, and sending him tumbling backwards onto the ground. His companions helped him back to his feet while he held a handkerchief to his mouth. He was slightly shocked, but regained his aggressiveness and began verbally abusing Gordy again while spitting blood from his mouth. The three of them began to close in on Gordy, circling him, causing him to keep changing the direction of his vision as if he were wondering which one of them was going