The door swung back and hit the wall with a bang causing a fine mist of dust to drift down from the ceiling. Jackson’s torch shone through the haze like a searchlight as he quickly swept the room with its beam. There was no one there. The room was devoid of any furniture so there was nowhere for someone to hide. He reached over and tried the light switch. The light did not come on. He pointed the torch up at the light fitting. It had a half broken shade, but he could see there was a light bulb in it. He jiggled the switch on and off a few times. Nothing. Not even a flicker.

  He stepped back out into the passage. There was no one in the room, but maybe they were hiding in one of the other rooms. He conducted a search, checking every room. Again no one.

  Eventually he walked back down the stairs to the ground floor. He was sure he had seen a light in the window of that room. It must have been an electrical fault. He sat down on his couch and poured a glass of wine. As he sipped the drink something occurred to him. The doors of all the upstairs rooms were open except the room in which he had seen the light. The last time he had been upstairs he was sure he had left all doors open except for the one at the top of the landing.

  After puzzling over it for half an hour he gave up, prepared himself some dinner, watched a Netflix show called “Wolfman”, which was a bad choice, it was a terrible movie, then he went to bed. He was still feeling nervous about someone being in the house so he locked his bedroom door and placed the carving knife on his bedside table, just in case.

  The following day was Saturday and it was warm and sunny, so he decided to go for a walk after breakfast. There were a number of roads and lanes in the area so Jackson spent the next two hours strolling along looking at the various houses interspersed with green paddocks with grazing sheep and horses. Finally it was time for lunch so Jackson decided to walk into the town to a café he had visited once before.

  As he rounded a corner he almost ran into someone.

  As they both apologised to each other at the same time, Jackson stepped back and looked at the pretty girl wearing the white dress.

  It was her, the woman in white, at least he thought it was her.

  “I think I’ve seen you before,” he said, “It was a few weeks ago just as it was getting dark. You were standing outside the gate of my driveway.”

  “Oh you mean Oakhaven,” she said, looking thoughtful, “Yes, I was admiring the house. So you live there?”

  “Yes, I moved in a few months ago. By the way my name is Jackson.” He held out his hand.

  She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and held his hand for a few seconds. Her hand was soft and warm.

  “I’m Isabella.”

  “Isabella,” Jackson repeated slowly, savouring each syllable, “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, “Well I better be on my way.”

  “Wait a minute. I still don’t know the town very well. Could you suggest a good café for me to have lunch?”

  She smiled at him. “Of course, let me take you there.”

  “Well okay thank you, but please don’t let me hold you up from where you were going.”

  “I don’t mind, in fact I’m rather hungry myself. Perhaps we could have lunch together.”

  Jackson couldn’t believe his luck as they walked into the town. After several lonely months with no female company a pretty girl was taking him to lunch, well sort of.

  “Do you live here in Alford?” he asked her.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I live not far from you. So Mr Jackson, what is your job? Where do you work?”

  “Please just call me Jackson. I work from home most of time for an I.T. company based in London.”

  “I.T?” she looked puzzled.

  “Information technology,” he explained, “I write computer software.”

  She still looked puzzled, “Technology, software? Okay well that sounds like a nice job.”

  “So what do you do?” he asked her, “Do you have a job?”

  “Oh yes, I’m a librarian.”

  So they continued the light chatter for another ten minutes until they arrived at the café. It was called Café on the Cobbles.

  “A long time ago there were actually cobble stones here,” Isabella explained as they stood out the front of the building, “But now it’s just cement, and the fa?ade of the café has been modernised.”

  “So I assume you’ve been here many times?” Jackson commented as they entered.

  She looked sad for a moment, “Only once, a long time ago.”

  They sat at a corner table and ordered, fish for Isabella and chilli chicken for Jackson.

  As they ate their food Isabella asked, “What’s your house like inside? Is it as nice as it looks outside?”

  “Well the ground floor has been renovated recently,” Jackson replied between mouthfuls, “but the upstairs is in pretty poor condition. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll get it fixed up, but I suppose I’ll have to if I ever want to sell the place.”

  They continued small talk over lunch, then Jackson offered to pay for them both. He had noticed Isabella did not have a bag with her so he assumed she had left her money at home.

  As he paid at the counter she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much, kind sir,” she said with a big smile.

  They walked out onto the street.

  “I better go back home now,” Jackson said, “But I would love to see you again sometime, unless of course you have a boyfriend.”

  He looked closely at her pretty face hoping she would say no.

  She paused and then replied, “No I don’t have a boyfriend as you call it. I did have a suitor once a long time ago, but he left me for another.”

  “Oh that’s too bad,” Jackson said, “Well can I have your phone number and maybe we can have lunch again soon, or maybe dinner.”

  “Phone number? I don’t have a phone.”

  “You don’t have a phone? I thought everyone had a phone these days.”

  “Let me walk with you on your way,” she said, quickly changing the subject, “I live not far from you.”

  So they started walking out of the main part of town towards Mulligan’s Lane which lead to Oakhaven.

  After they had been walking for a few minutes Isabella turned to Jackson. “Mr Jackson, I know this is rather forward of me but I would like to see your house. Could you show it to me?”

  “Of course,” he replied, “I would love to show it to you.”

  They arrived at Oakhaven a few minutes later and Jackson showed Isabella around the ground floor.

  She giggled when he showed her his bedroom.

  “I’m sorry it’s so messy,” Jackson said, “But I had no idea I would be showing a beautiful girl through the house today or I would have tidied up.”

  She seemed particularly interested in the library with its shelves of dusty old books.

  “Have you read any of these?” she asked him.

  “These old books? No, I haven’t really had time to look at them what with the house repairs and my work I do for the I.T. firm.”

  “Can I see upstairs?”

  “Yes, but there’s nothing to see. It’s completely empty and in terrible condition.”

  They walked up the stairs and Isabella looked into each of the rooms.

  “It was beautiful up here once,” she remarked with a sad look on her face.

  “Yes, I suppose it would have been,” Jackson replied, “But that would have been a long time ago.”

  The last room they looked at was the bedroom second from the left of the landing. She walked up to the door which was closed, paused and put her hand on it.

  “Can I go in?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Jackson replied, “But that’s strange. I’m sure I left that door open the last time I was up here.”

  “Maybe there’s a breeze that blows it shut,” his guest suggested. She turned the handle and opened the door. “Oh, you forgot to turn the light off,” she said.

  “What?” Jackson followed Isabella into the room. Sure enough the light was on. He glanced up at the light bulb, and as he did so it flickered and went off.

  He jiggled the light switch, but the bulb refused the light up again.

  “Must be a fault with the wiring,” he muttered.

  Meanwhile Isabella walked slowly around the room looking closely at the floor. Finally she stood back. “The bed was there,” she said pointing to the far wall, “Chest of drawers there, and cupboards over there.”

  Jackson looked at her puzzled, “Yes, I suppose those would have been the logical places for the bed and furniture.”

  “Will you show me the gardens now?”

  They walked around the gardens and Isabella commented on how nice they looked. Finally as they stood by the back fence she gazed out across the neighbouring field of grazing sheep.

  “See that hill over there?” she said, pointing.

  Jackson looked across the field at a small green hill devoid of any trees about three hundred metres away.

  “Yes, I see it.”

  “Don’t ever go there.”

  “Why not? You would probably get a nice view from the top.”

  “See how none of the sheep graze on that hill? They know to stay off it. Just promise me you’ll never go there.”

  “Okay, if you say so. Now why don’t we go inside and have a cup of coffee, or tea if you would prefer?”

  For the next hour they sat at Jackson’s dining table drinking tea and chatting. Finally Isabella looked out the window at the fading light.

  “I’ll have to go now,” she announced, “Thank you for lunch and a wonderful afternoon, Mr Jackson, “You are a true gentleman.”

  They walked to the front door.

  “Can I drive you home?” Jackson asked.

  “No need,” she answered, “I don’t live far from here so I’ll walk.”

  Jackson walked her to the front gate.

  The temperature was dropping and an early evening mist was developing.

  “Can I see you again?” he said.

  “I think you will,” she replied. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then walked down the road, turning back to give him a wave as she went.

  He waved back while watching her figure gradually fading into the mist.   The door swung back and hit the wall with a bang causing a fine mist of dust to drift down from the ceiling. Jackson’s torch shone through the haze like a searchlight as he quickly swept the room with its beam. There was no one there. The room was devoid of any furniture so there was nowhere for someone to hide. He reached over and tried the light switch. The light did not come on. He pointed the torch up at the light fitting. It had a half broken shade, but he could see there was a light bulb in it. He jiggled the switch on and off a few times. Nothing. Not even a flicker.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  He stepped back out into the passage. There was no one in the room, but maybe they were hiding in one of the other rooms. He conducted a search, checking every room. Again no one.

  Eventually he walked back down the stairs to the ground floor. He was sure he had seen a light in the window of that room. It must have been an electrical fault. He sat down on his couch and poured a glass of wine. As he sipped the drink something occurred to him. The doors of all the upstairs rooms were open except the room in which he had seen the light. The last time he had been upstairs he was sure he had left all doors open except for the one at the top of the landing.

  After puzzling over it for half an hour he gave up, prepared himself some dinner, watched a Netflix show called “Wolfman”, which was a bad choice, it was a terrible movie, then he went to bed. He was still feeling nervous about someone being in the house so he locked his bedroom door and placed the carving knife on his bedside table, just in case.

  The following day was Saturday and it was warm and sunny, so he decided to go for a walk after breakfast. There were a number of roads and lanes in the area so Jackson spent the next two hours strolling along looking at the various houses interspersed with green paddocks with grazing sheep and horses. Finally it was time for lunch so Jackson decided to walk into the town to a café he had visited once before.

  As he rounded a corner he almost ran into someone.

  As they both apologised to each other at the same time, Jackson stepped back and looked at the pretty girl wearing the white dress.

  It was her, the woman in white, at least he thought it was her.

  “I think I’ve seen you before,” he said, “It was a few weeks ago just as it was getting dark. You were standing outside the gate of my driveway.”

  “Oh you mean Oakhaven,” she said, looking thoughtful, “Yes, I was admiring the house. So you live there?”

  “Yes, I moved in a few months ago. By the way my name is Jackson.” He held out his hand.

  She hesitated for a moment, then reached out and held his hand for a few seconds. Her hand was soft and warm.

  “I’m Isabella.”

  “Isabella,” Jackson repeated slowly, savouring each syllable, “That’s a beautiful name.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, “Well I better be on my way.”

  “Wait a minute. I still don’t know the town very well. Could you suggest a good café for me to have lunch?”

  She smiled at him. “Of course, let me take you there.”

  “Well okay thank you, but please don’t let me hold you up from where you were going.”

  “I don’t mind, in fact I’m rather hungry myself. Perhaps we could have lunch together.”

  Jackson couldn’t believe his luck as they walked into the town. After several lonely months with no female company a pretty girl was taking him to lunch, well sort of.

  “Do you live here in Alford?” he asked her.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I live not far from you. So Mr Jackson, what is your job? Where do you work?”

  “Please just call me Jackson. I work from home most of time for an I.T. company based in London.”

  “I.T?” she looked puzzled.

  “Information technology,” he explained, “I write computer software.”

  She still looked puzzled, “Technology, software? Okay well that sounds like a nice job.”

  “So what do you do?” he asked her, “Do you have a job?”

  “Oh yes, I’m a librarian.”

  So they continued the light chatter for another ten minutes until they arrived at the café. It was called Café on the Cobbles.

  “A long time ago there were actually cobble stones here,” Isabella explained as they stood out the front of the building, “But now it’s just cement, and the fa?ade of the café has been modernised.”

  “So I assume you’ve been here many times?” Jackson commented as they entered.

  She looked sad for a moment, “Only once, a long time ago.”

  They sat at a corner table and ordered, fish for Isabella and chilli chicken for Jackson.

  As they ate their food Isabella asked, “What’s your house like inside? Is it as nice as it looks outside?”

  “Well the ground floor has been renovated recently,” Jackson replied between mouthfuls, “but the upstairs is in pretty poor condition. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll get it fixed up, but I suppose I’ll have to if I ever want to sell the place.”

  They continued small talk over lunch, then Jackson offered to pay for them both. He had noticed Isabella did not have a bag with her so he assumed she had left her money at home.

  As he paid at the counter she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much, kind sir,” she said with a big smile.

  They walked out onto the street.

  “I better go back home now,” Jackson said, “But I would love to see you again sometime, unless of course you have a boyfriend.”

  He looked closely at her pretty face hoping she would say no.

  She paused and then replied, “No I don’t have a boyfriend as you call it. I did have a suitor once a long time ago, but he left me for another.”

  “Oh that’s too bad,” Jackson said, “Well can I have your phone number and maybe we can have lunch again soon, or maybe dinner.”

  “Phone number? I don’t have a phone.”

  “You don’t have a phone? I thought everyone had a phone these days.”

  “Let me walk with you on your way,” she said, quickly changing the subject, “I live not far from you.”

  So they started walking out of the main part of town towards Mulligan’s Lane which lead to Oakhaven.

  After they had been walking for a few minutes Isabella turned to Jackson. “Mr Jackson, I know this is rather forward of me but I would like to see your house. Could you show it to me?”

  “Of course,” he replied, “I would love to show it to you.”

  They arrived at Oakhaven a few minutes later and Jackson showed Isabella around the ground floor.

  She giggled when he showed her his bedroom.

  “I’m sorry it’s so messy,” Jackson said, “But I had no idea I would be showing a beautiful girl through the house today or I would have tidied up.”

  She seemed particularly interested in the library with its shelves of dusty old books.

  “Have you read any of these?” she asked him.

  “These old books? No, I haven’t really had time to look at them what with the house repairs and my work I do for the I.T. firm.”

  “Can I see upstairs?”

  “Yes, but there’s nothing to see. It’s completely empty and in terrible condition.”

  They walked up the stairs and Isabella looked into each of the rooms.

  “It was beautiful up here once,” she remarked with a sad look on her face.

  “Yes, I suppose it would have been,” Jackson replied, “But that would have been a long time ago.”

  The last room they looked at was the bedroom second from the left of the landing. She walked up to the door which was closed, paused and put her hand on it.

  “Can I go in?” she asked.

  “Of course,” Jackson replied, “But that’s strange. I’m sure I left that door open the last time I was up here.”

  “Maybe there’s a breeze that blows it shut,” his guest suggested. She turned the handle and opened the door. “Oh, you forgot to turn the light off,” she said.

  “What?” Jackson followed Isabella into the room. Sure enough the light was on. He glanced up at the light bulb, and as he did so it flickered and went off.

  He jiggled the light switch, but the bulb refused the light up again.

  “Must be a fault with the wiring,” he muttered.

  Meanwhile Isabella walked slowly around the room looking closely at the floor. Finally she stood back. “The bed was there,” she said pointing to the far wall, “Chest of drawers there, and cupboards over there.”

  Jackson looked at her puzzled, “Yes, I suppose those would have been the logical places for the bed and furniture.”

  “Will you show me the gardens now?”

  They walked around the gardens and Isabella commented on how nice they looked. Finally as they stood by the back fence she gazed out across the neighbouring field of grazing sheep.

  “See that hill over there?” she said, pointing.

  Jackson looked across the field at a small green hill devoid of any trees about three hundred metres away.

  “Yes, I see it.”

  “Don’t ever go there.”

  “Why not? You would probably get a nice view from the top.”

  “See how none of the sheep graze on that hill? They know to stay off it. Just promise me you’ll never go there.”

  “Okay, if you say so. Now why don’t we go inside and have a cup of coffee, or tea if you would prefer?”

  For the next hour they sat at Jackson’s dining table drinking tea and chatting. Finally Isabella looked out the window at the fading light.

  “I’ll have to go now,” she announced, “Thank you for lunch and a wonderful afternoon, Mr Jackson, “You are a true gentleman.”

  They walked to the front door.

  “Can I drive you home?” Jackson asked.

  “No need,” she answered, “I don’t live far from here so I’ll walk.”

  Jackson walked her to the front gate.

  The temperature was dropping and an early evening mist was developing.

  “Can I see you again?” he said.

  “I think you will,” she replied. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then walked down the road, turning back to give him a wave as she went.

  He waved back while watching her figure gradually fading into the mist.