44 Gilmore Street Read online




  Psychic Surveys Book Three:

  44 Gilmore Street

  Shani Struthers

  Copyright © 2016 by Shani Struthers

  Photography: almgren

  Design: Crooked Cat

  Editor: Jeff Gardiner

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever

  without written permission of the author or Crooked Cat Publishing except for brief quotations used for promotion or in reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales,

  is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Crooked Cat Publishing at Smashwords

  First Black Line Edition, Crooked Cat Publishing Ltd. 2016

  Discover us online:

  www.crookedcatpublishing.com

  Join us on facebook:

  www.facebook.com/crookedcatpublishing

  Tweet a photo of yourself holding

  this book to @crookedcatbooks

  and something nice will happen.

  For Rob –

  I couldn’t do this without you.

  Acknowledgements:

  Once again thanks to my trusty band of beta readers, who pick up on so much that I can’t see and make me change it! You know who you are but I’m going to name you anyway, Rob, Louisa, Alicen and Lesley, I couldn’t do this without any of you either. Thanks also to Jeff Gardiner, my brilliant editor, I wouldn’t want to work with anyone else on this series and also to Laurence and Steph at Crooked Cat Publishing. Thanks also to the readers who keep me going with chat on Facebook and Twitter and who leave such lovely reviews on Amazon – I appreciate it very much.

  About the Author:

  Shani Struthers is a Brighton-based author of paranormal fiction, including Amazon International Bestseller, Psychic Surveys Book One: The Haunting of Highdown Hall and its sequel, Psychic Surveys Book Two: Rise to Me. 44 Gilmore Street is the third book in this series, which will span six in total. She is also the author of Eve – A Christmas Ghost Story, which is a Psychic Surveys prequel novella (although it's got Christmas in the title, give it a go at any time of year!) and Jessamine, a stand-alone atmospheric psychological romance set in the Highlands of Scotland.

  Writing is her main occupation but she does find time to travel, go to the cinema, and read as well. After graduating from Sussex University in the early 90s with a degree in English and American Literature, Shani became a freelance travel writer. Twenty years later and the day job involves crafting novels too - those with a ghostly bent. And yes… before you ask… all stories are inspired by true events and experiences.

  Shani is active on Facebook and Twitter and would love to hear from you.

  Also by Shani Struthers:

  Jessamine

  Psychic Surveys Book One: The Haunting of Highdown Hall

  Psychic Surveys Book Two: Rise To Me

  Eve – A Christmas Ghost Story: A Psychic Surveys Prequel

  To find out more about Shani Struthers and her books, as well as keep informed of competitions and giveaways, contact her via her website (www.shanistruthers.com) or subscribe to her newsletter: http://eepurl.com/beoHLv

  Psychic Surveys Book Three:

  44 Gilmore Street

  Prologue

  A few months earlier

  “It’s done. It’s over.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know it is.”

  “Then don’t look like that, Ruby. You should be happy.”

  “I am happy, Cash, honest.” Ruby thought about his words. “Hang on. Look like what? What do you mean? What’s wrong with the way I look?”

  Cash laughed. “You look beautiful. You always do. Just… try and relax.”

  Turning away from her, he murmured something about it having been one heck of a day and that he was knackered. Within seconds he was snoring.

  Ruby turned over, switched off the bedside lamp and lay in the darkness. She could feel movement at the foot of her bed; it was Jed – turning round in several circles before settling himself comfortably too.

  She tried to smile but couldn’t. The dark, never a worry before, unnerved her, ever since… ever since…

  Stop, Ruby, don’t think about it.

  And remember Cash’s words. ‘It’s done. It’s over.’

  The entity that had been a part of her life for so long, her mother’s and her grandmother’s too, was gone. They’d finally rid themselves of it. Except… it didn’t feel like that. It still felt close. Not just close, but in her. Actually in her. ‘Don’t feed it,’ Gran had warned. ‘Starve the bad wolf.’ Or take your mind off it, which work did at least. But sometimes there was no escape, like now for instance, when those around you were deep in slumber – leaving you, for all intents and purposes, alone. Abandoning you.

  She studied the shape of Cash beside her. How did he do that? Fall asleep so quickly. It’s as though he didn’t have a care in the world, whereas she was weighed down with them.

  Ruby, lighten up, for God’s sake!

  For her sake would be more apt. After what had happened, the victory of it, she should be euphoric, swinging from the chandeliers, not walking but positively skipping along pavements, full of enthusiasm for a life that could be lived more freely. If only that were the case, if only…

  The darkness closed in on her. With one hand she reached for her eye mask and positioned it over her head. It grew darker still, black and intense – a lonely kingdom where no light dared to encroach. It seemed familiar, this kingdom. As if it welcomed her. As if she belonged. And, in the hidden depths of her, something stirred, and welcomed it too.

  Her breath began to quicken.

  Work, she’d think about work, what the next day had in store for her. It’d be busy, no doubt about it, and she had to find sleep: oblivion – blissful oblivion.

  She screwed her eyes shut, and willed it to come.

  Please, please, please…

  And it did. Slowly. Teasingly.

  Falling back as though through layers and layers of gossamer, her breathing grew more regular as the body went into temporary shutdown.

  But the mind, oh the mind... Still her thoughts plagued her.

  ‘It’s done. It’s over.’

  But was it? Was it really?

  Some things are never over.

  Chapter One

  Present day

  “Okay, if you won’t take a week, how about a long weekend? You need a holiday.”

  “I don’t need a holiday.”

  “Everyone needs a holiday at some point.”

  Ruby sighed. Theo meant well but this really wasn’t the time to take a break of any kind. Psychic Surveys, the high street consultancy she ran in Lewes, specialising in spiritual domestic clearance, was at the point where she was thinking about hiring an extra freelance team member. Case after case came in, as though the afterworld had gone on strike, refusing to let any more souls cross the great divide. A nonsensical concept, she knew, but that’s what it felt like. Heading off for a few days was not on the cards.

  The two of them were sitting in Ruby’s attic office, with spring sunshine filtering in through the lead window and lighting up surroundings that had a tendency towards gloom. Even the dust motes dancing in the air held a certain charm. It was Monday morning, after nine and Theo had popped in to get the lowdown on new cases that Ruby had been spent all weekend fielding. When it came to the nine to five rule, the spirits didn’t give a damn.

  If Ruby sighed earlier, Theo did now – very long and very low.

  “Darling,” she said, leaning across the desk to take Ruby’s hands in her own, “after what you’ve j
ust gone through, a break is essential. I’m worried. You’re in danger of becoming a workaholic.”

  “What I went through – what we went through – was a while ago now.”

  “But there are dark circles around your eyes. You look… tired.”

  “I’m fine, really I am. It’s just… you know how busy it’s been lately.”

  “I do, I do,” Theo conceded.

  There was also Cash, her boyfriend; he took up a lot of her time too. Theo, renowned for her ability to ‘catch’ thoughts on occasion, caught that one.

  “I’m sure he does, sweetheart,” she remarked with a wink. “Ah, the first bloom of love, I remember it well.” Referring to her husband, Reggie, who had long since departed this world, she added, “I still miss him, you know?”

  Ruby didn’t doubt it. Theo was always jolly, relentlessly so at times, but sometimes she had a wistful look about her, the slightest air of melancholy. Ruby couldn’t catch thoughts, not like Theo or Ness, the third member of the Psychic Surveys quartet, who also had the ability, but it was at those moments she surmised that Reggie was on her mind.

  “And you’d be right,” Theo admitted. “Spot-on.”

  This was turning into one of those wistful moments.

  Releasing Ruby, Theo clapped her hands together, which broke the spell.

  “Right, this holiday—”

  “Theo, let’s just sort out these new cases. They’re mostly local but there’s one in the Lyme Regis area, linked to a period cottage, dating back to the seventeenth century and recently purchased to let. It’s got ghosts galore apparently. Layers and layers of them. The new owners, Rachel and Mark, claim to have seen at least several different apparitions. They’re not bothered by them funnily enough but they think prospective tenants will be.”

  “Lyme Regis you say? Now why don’t you and Cash carry out the first survey on that one? You could combine it with a—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know, a holiday.”

  “Indeed,” Theo replied, looking nothing if not smug.

  Cash was not the fourth member of the team. He was a freelance IT Specialist with enough work of his own. Corinna was the fourth member. Not a psychic but a sensitive, in her early twenties and keen to hone her skills. Although she worked in a pub, she’d been doing increased hours for Ruby lately. They all had – despite Theo having turned seventy and Ness coming up to fifty-six. Ruby worked at the business full-time and then some. But workaholic or not, as she’d just been accused, she loved her job. There was nothing more satisfying than helping a spirit that was grounded. Dealing with the non-spiritual, however, that which had never been human, was another matter – one she didn’t want to think about. Not after last year.

  “But you are thinking about it, aren’t you?”

  “Theo, I’m fine.”

  “I’m not contradicting you, I’m just saying—”

  The door burst open and Cash bustled in, his arms full of something.

  “Babe! Guess what I’ve got here?”

  Ruby grew even more fractious; she could see well enough.

  “Holiday brochures,” Cash continued enthusiastically. “I’ve just picked them up. I’ve got the Caribbean, the Far East, America, the lot. I have to say, if it were up to me, we’d be heading to Barbados pronto. Mauritius looks good too, though. The beaches go on for miles and miles and they’re so white.”

  Ruby couldn’t believe it. “Are you two ganging up on me?”

  Some of Cash’s enthusiasm waned. “Sorry? I’m not with you.”

  “Theo’s been saying I need a holiday and now you. Have you two been scheming behind my back, concocting this up between you?”

  He seemed genuinely taken aback. “I swear, I haven’t.”

  “So how did you know?”

  “Know what?”

  “That we were talking about holidays!”

  His familiar grin returned. “Ah, well, that would be the psychic in me.”

  Ruby couldn’t help but smile too. Cash was not psychic but he was intuitive, becoming more and more so over the months she’d been with him. He always said hanging around with psychics was the reason why and maybe he had a point. Either that or it really was coincidence.

  “Look, Cash, I’d love to go on holiday with you,” – it would be their first – “but we’re really busy so there’s absolutely no way—”

  There was another interruption. The door to her office opened and a face peered round it. All three of them stared in surprise. This was the attic. People didn’t just walk in off the street. Usually they phoned first or made an appointment. More usually still Ruby and the team went to visit clients – or rather the four walls the clients occupied that were deemed ‘haunted’. The attic was simply too small to hold consultations with the general public.

  Everyone continued to stare, as though engaged in a contest.

  Ruby spoke up. “Erm… hello, can I help you?”

  “Psychic Surveys?” the girl responded. She was young, not far out of her teens, Ruby guessed, around twenty-one, twenty-two, with brown hair – a mousey shade not dissimilar to Ruby’s – and timid blue eyes.

  “Yes, this is Psychic Surveys.”

  Relief flooded her features. “Oh good. I mean I know it is, I checked I had the right address before I came here. Then I met one of the men in the offices below. He was really nice, he opened the door, said for me to go on up, that you wouldn’t mind. I hope you don’t, mind that is. It is okay, isn’t it?”

  The girl was rambling. What could she say? ‘No, it’s not okay, come back when you’ve made an appointment?’ That would seem churlish.

  Ruby stood up and gestured towards a second, smaller desk. Her desk – purchased from Ardingly Antiques Fair and massive with an inlaid green leather top was where she, and she alone, sat. It might be massive but it was cluttered too, with all sorts of files, books and random pieces of paper covering it, as well as her computer, keyboard, printer and phone. The other desk was where team meetings were held – it was here she invited the mystery guest to sit, whilst offering her the obligatory cup of tea.

  “Oh no, I don’t drink tea. A cup of coffee though, that’d be cool. I take it with lots of milk and two sugars. My name’s Elisha Grey, but call me Ellie, everyone does. And you’re Ruby Davis aren’t you?”

  Ruby confirmed she was and also introduced the others as Cash Wilkins and Theo Lawson. They shuffled over to the meeting table too and Ruby included them in the drinks round. When all four had their respective mugs in front of them, Ruby asked Ellie the purpose of her visit. Immediately Ellie started scratching at her arm.

  “It’s… well… I’ve got a bit of a problem.”

  “A problem of a spiritual nature?” queried Theo.

  “I don’t know what you’d call it, to be honest.”

  “Are you being haunted? By a ghost I mean.”

  It was Cash who’d asked that, cutting to the chase as usual. He knew very well that Ruby didn’t call grounded spirits ‘ghosts’ but as most of the world did, she supposed it did no harm to use the layman’s term every now and then. Again Ellie looked embarrassed. People often did when talking about psychic matters; either that or manically excited as though the real world was not quite thrilling enough for them, wanting to spice it up with a dose of the supernatural. Ruby and her team called those types of people the ‘wannabes’ – they wanted to be haunted. Generally though, it was easy to tell the difference between those who were and those who weren’t. There was no disguising genuine fear. With Ellie, however, it wasn’t easy. Ruby glanced at Theo. She was having trouble deciding too.

  “Are you being haunted?” Ruby repeated Cash’s words.

  Ellie took another sip of coffee.

  “I think I’m tuning into a past life,” she said finally.

  “A past life?” Ruby hadn’t expected that. “You mean reincarnation?”

  “Yes, that’s it, reincarnation. I… I was told something, a short while back and, well, it’s like it’s set
something off in me.”

  “Oh?” prompted Theo.

  “It’s like a door’s been opened in my mind, a door that’s always been there but was shut tight, until now.” Ellie hung her head, brown hair falling forward slightly. “Do you know what I mean? Am I making sense?”

  Ruby’s eyes travelled to where the girl was scratching, the skin was red, sore looking: eczema perhaps.

  Theo must have noticed too. “Tell us more,” she said, smiling indulgently.

  Ellie looked so grateful that the older woman was interested. “I’ve started dreaming.” She tutted – seemingly annoyed at such a trite statement. “We all dream, I know that, but these dreams are different, they’re like, really vivid. Familiar too, that’s what gets me about them. It’s hard to explain.”

  “You’re doing well, go on.” Again it was Theo gently cajoling.

  “Lately, in the last month or so, I’ve been getting… I don’t know what you’d call them, waking dreams I suppose, not even that, flashbacks or… snapshots. Yeah that’s it, snapshots describes them better. There’s always a woman in them, me I presume. I’m standing in a kitchen. There are dishes in the sink and the weather’s miserable with grey skies and rain. It’s always dark too. Not pitch black, I don’t mean that. It’s like one of those energy saving bulbs has been switched on but never quite gets to full brightness. There’s a smell in the kitchen too. Damp or mould or something. It’s very run down. The smell, it settles deep inside you, makes you feel unclean, contaminated even. These snapshots are as vivid as the dreams.”