The Reluctant Widow part 7

It was late evening. Simon stood alone before the graves of Jenny’s lovers. Above him yawned an indigo sky full of stars too distant to care, and a half moon safe behind a cloud. The stillness muffled his ears. He had been drawn to this spot by something he’d seen from his bedroom window; a sight, which close up, was even more incomprehensible.
‘Those damn stones are luminous,’ he mumbled softly. ‘They’re glowing like something out of Halloween.’ A shiver ran along his spine, which was only partly to do with the cool air. He looked around as if expecting...anything.
‘A graveyard full of dead souls...whatever creeps around here is not going to be uplifting,’ he joked. A deep breath was always useful in such a place. He knelt down to look more closely at Tom’s headstone, stumbled forward, putting both hands on the soil to steady himself - the ground before the stone was warm! He reached out...the other were the same, a strange low vibration against his palms.
Impossible.
But his senses were not lying. Something caught his eye, a shimmer of light far before him, or was it just the effect of the luminosity? He narrowed his eyes, peering around the graves. Something was moving, a bright light swaying like a ship’s lantern; white, blue, perhaps grey, it was too far away to see. It seemed to ebb and flow in size, shifting lazily between the gravestones as if searching...moving...towards him.
Simon froze, wide eyed, mouth open. Fear paralysed him, common sense told him to run, disbelief couldn’t accept what was before him. The form drew closer, brighter, took shape. The sway had become a stagger, heavy, cumbersome, the light had become a young man with a strange crick in his neck. He was close enough for Simon to see his tortured features - bulbous eyeballs, tongue protruding grotesquely from his mouth, a dark rope burn around his neck as if he’d been...hung.
Something inside Simon threatened to turn liquid as he realised who or what he was confronting. Instinctively he clutched one of the headstones - warm and restless as the ground beneath him. The form stopped a short distance away, gazing malevolently at Simon. Then a ghostly hand reached out to him, its essence moulding itself onto the contours of his face like a mask, spreading over his cheeks, his lips, then suddenly down his throat! Vicious fingers gripped his lungs, strangling the air from him; a terrible wailing whisper filling his head!
‘They stole my breath!’
Simon struggled for air, heart pounding fiercely, his mind screaming at him to get away. Gasping, choking, desperately trying to suck air into his crushed lungs...but there was no life in his limbs, no energy, no will. His senses were in thrall of the ghostly menace, a dark mist rising, ready to cloak his sight forever!
‘Simon!’
His lungs ballooned as Jenny’s hand gripped his shoulder.
‘Simon. It’s all right. He’s gone!’
He slumped back against the white stones, sucking cool precious air into his chest while Jenny knelt before him. He stared in confusion then recognised her.
‘Jenny,’ he gasped clutching her.
‘It’s okay Simon. He can’t get you now. I’m here.’
‘It...it tried to kill me.’
Simon held her for dear life as pain tightened his ribs, looking hard into Jenny’s eyes.
‘You know what that was. It’s no curse that’s haunting you, it’s Billy...
Billy’s ghost!’
Jenny nodded.‘What made you come out here so late?’
‘The stones. I saw them glowing...those bloody things are brighter than the moon.’
‘I know. I’ve seen them too. It started shortly after you came here.’
‘Do you know what it means?’
‘I’m...not sure. Come on let’s go back inside, we can’t talk here.’
He struggled to his feet, resting on Jenny as they stumbled back to the house. Sinking gratefully onto a hard chair by the kitchen table, wiping sweat from his brow, wincing at the continual pain in his chest.
‘Can I get you something?’ Jenny asked.
‘I could do with a drink.’
‘I’ll see what the Reverent has in his study.’
‘The strongest he’s got.’ Simon called as she left. A few moments later Jenny returned with two glasses. ‘Only port I’m afraid.’
Simon nodded, downing the first glassful she gave him in one gulp, then motioning to her for a refill. Jenny too took a large swallow of port, feeling it warm her inside. She drew up a chair beside him sitting motionless, both letting the drink relax them a little. Slowly the colour returned to Simon’s face and breathing became easier.
‘You’ve saved my life again.’ he whispered hoarsely. ‘How did you know I was in danger?’
‘I...felt Billy’s presence. I saw him threatening you in my head.’
‘Do you always know when he’s around?’
‘Yes. I...get a sick feeling in my stomach.’
‘I’m not surprised. If you hadn’t turned up...’
‘It wasn’t me. Billy’s not afraid of me. Something else stopped him...I’m not sure what.’
‘Well I damn glad he had second thoughts!’ Simon gently stroked his ribs.
‘Either way, you can’t stay here any longer.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh Simon, don’t be dense! Billy thinks we’re in love. Your life is in danger.’
He gazed, long and searching at her. Jenny had been there since his return to the world. It was her face he’d seen when life started again, her caring which had brought him back. He remembered her soft touch as she stroked his brow, the silkiness of her hair, her gentle eyes so full of concern; how he had fought down the desire to kiss her as she wept in his arms. To hold her forever in his protection and wipe the veil of anguish from her sweet face. Why not call it love? he asked himself. I want her, desire her, would give my life for her?
‘Perhaps he’s right?’
‘He mustn’t be right.’ She got up to close the curtains. Simon joined her, reaching for her shoulder, but she pulled away.
‘No Simon. Whatever you think, whatever you feel...it can’t be.’
‘That’s what Billy wants Jenny. What do you want?’
‘I...don’t want anymore blood on my hands. Oh Simon go, please get away from here!’
‘Just tell me that you feel nothing for me and I’ll go.’
Jenny’s eyes filled with tears as she wrung her hands...then slowly shook her head. ‘I...can’t say that.’
‘Then tell me...tell me what you do feel!’
Simon’s voice was shaky, his body trembling as he waited for her reply. He suddenly felt like a gambler risking all on one dice throw. Jenny was too choked to respond. In one blind moment she abandoned her fears, hugging him tearfully, moaning his name. They embraced, kissing passionately, forgetting the night and its dangers, cocooned in the warmth of their desire. Then, like a beautiful shooting star, it dissipated into the gloom as Jenny came to her senses. Was God testing her again? Was he laughing at her or was it the Devil?
‘No...no more blood! No more love...just leave!’ She moaned softly, trying to pull free but Simon gripped her. ‘Wait...if I have to go, at least tell me the whole story.’ She sagged against him as if his request had drained her last reserves of will. ‘It’s too painful Simon...like a knife in my heart.’
‘Please Jenny,’ he asked, lifting her face in his hands. ‘If love is denied us, then pain is all we have left. I must know everything that has happened.’