Chapter Text
Beatrice didn’t believe in ghosts.
Growing up, kids around school liked to try and tell ghost stories to scare the younger children. After hearing a particularly gruesome story about the one-armed teacher who supposedly stole the souls of children who misbehaved in class, Beatrice had just laughed, and told them to grow up and stop being so silly. This had resulted in the older kids getting all grumpy, but Beatrice really didn’t care about that.
When her friends had tried to convince her to go into an abandoned house as a dare, because there were supposedly ghosts inside, Beatrice had declined. Not because she was scared of ghosts, but because she knew the house was so structurally unstable that going inside would be a terrible idea.
Beatrice didn’t specifically know what she believed happened after death, as her parents’ view of heaven and hell seemed, well, she just wasn’t sure about it. Growing up in a strict Catholic household had been difficult, especially when it had forced her to repress so much of herself. She still had faith in a higher power, and she still held to most of the beliefs offered in the Bible, but apart from that, she was yet to completely decide.
So, no, Beatrice didn’t have any solid idea about what happened after you died, but she was certain that ghosts were not real. There was absolutely no scientific explanation behind it, and Christianity definitely didn’t believe in ghosts, so Beatrice felt extremely confident in saying that ghosts were not real.
Which meant that when a house, possibly haunted, went on the market, and Beatrice’s best friend Lilith wanted her to move in, along with their other friend Camila, Beatrice accepted.
She’d been looking for an escape from her parents for a while, and as she was getting closer to being finished with university, this seemed like the perfect time. With Lilith’s sizeable inheritance, and Beatrice’s as well, they both could have probably bought their own houses, but they both agreed that living together would be preferable. Camila had come along because if they were going to be living in a house with four bedrooms, they figured having another friend with them might be nice.
For some reason, no one else wanted the house, so the three girls were able to move in almost immediately. It took about a week to get all the furniture inside, and there were still plenty of boxes left scattered around, but it was starting to feel real, and for that Beatrice was glad.
They were moving the last lot of boxes inside from the moving trailer when their friend Mary, who was helping them move in out of ‘the kindness of her heart’, mentioned the ghost.
“So, you know that like everyone in the world thinks this place is haunted, right?”
Lilith scoffed and placed her box onto the kitchen counter.
“Don’t tell me you believe that ridiculous story?”
Mary rose an eyebrow as she placed her own box onto the floor.
“If you’re talking about the story of what happened here, it’s not ridiculous, you can look it up.”
Lilith rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Ghosts don’t exist.” She scanned the kitchen, which was currently overflowing with boxes. “Where did you put the kettle; we deserve some tea after all this?”
Mary waved an arm at the wall. “It’s in one of those. You Brits and your need for tea, honestly.”
“Tea’s quite nice Mary, they’ve really converted me,” Camila said as she entered the room.
Mary sighed. “Fine, I’ll have some. But after, we’re breaking out the case of beer that I brought.” She watched as Camila picked up her phone and asked, “What do you think about the ghost story Cam?”
Camila shuddered. “It’s horrible, what happened. My brother told me about it, I think he was trying to scare me, but it’s really just so awful. You know most of the nuns were arrested for abuse afterwards?”
Mary made a noise of surprise. “Seriously? Do they think they killed the girl; I thought it was a suicide?”
Camila shook her head. “They think it was a suicide because the nuns were abusive, apparently there were other deaths that were covered up and they think that they could have been killed.”
“Dark shit,” Mary muttered.
Lilith groaned and slammed the kettle onto a free space on the counter.
“Must you talk about such horrible things at times like these?”
“Oh sorry, we’ll save the ghost stories for bedtime. Unless you’re scared?”
Lilith rolled her eyes. “You’re seriously a child, I don’t know why we put up with you.”
“Because Shannon asked you to keep me company when she’s busy. And because I’m the light of your fucking life.”
Lilith and Mary continued to bicker as the tea was made, while Camila made her way over to Beatrice, who had been leaning against the wall for most of the conversation, staring into the distance.
“Are you alright Bea? You’ve been really quiet.”
Beatrice shook herself out of her silence and gave Camila a smile.
“Yes, of course, I’m just thinking. It’s been a busy day.”
Camila watched her carefully. “Is it the ghost story? I know it’s really sad, I won’t talk about it if it bothers you.”
Beatrice waved her concern off. “No, no, don’t worry. It’s horribly sad, I agree, but ghosts don’t scare me, they’re not real.”
Camila gave her a thoughtful look. “You know I’ve always thought ghosts make a certain sense. Like, if someone has unfinished business then they stick around to see it through. I’d like to have a second chance if I didn’t get to do what I wanted with my life.”
Beatrice smiled. Her friend always had such a hopeful way of looking at things. She was the first person who’d ever made Beatrice consider a life that wasn’t completely under her parents’ thumb. When you were around Camila, you felt like you could truly do anything.
“Perhaps. But I doubt our house is haunted. We’d probably have had an angry ghost throwing open the windows and howling by now if we did.”
“Don’t be too sure. The last owner said that she kept hearing footsteps downstairs and that things kept moving around,” Mary interjected. “She swore she saw a girl in the kitchen once as well.”
“She was old and her sight was going, she didn’t know what she was seeing,” Lilith argued, putting out some mugs for all of them. Even though Mary wasn’t living with them, she had a designated mug, a black one with the words Don’t Mess With Me Until I’ve Had My Coffee on the side. Mary had always stuck with coffee over tea, no matter how much Beatrice and Lilith had tried to convince her. Though, from time to time she would indulge them, such as now.
“Well, when you start hearing footsteps, don’t come crying to me.”
“It’s an old house, we’re going to hear all sorts of things.”
“What if you start seeing a girl walking around?”
“I’m going to assume it’s you trying to mess with me.”
“Hey, it was some white girl, there’s no way I’d pull that off.”
“Then you’d wear a bedsheet.”
Mary and Lilith, once again descended into bickering, and Camila watched them fondly.
Beatrice, on the other hand, found her attention straying for some reason. She couldn’t explain it, but it felt like someone was watching them. Like someone was standing right beside her.
She knew it was a silly impulse, but she looked, just in case there really was someone. But she saw nothing, just the air. Her heart settled in its chest, and she berated it for racing in the first place.
The talk of ghosts was unsettling her, that was all. There was nothing haunted about this house. Sure, it had tragedy in its past, but ghosts were not real.
And that was final.
+++
For the next three weeks, things passed at the house pretty normally. They unpacked and built furniture, settled into their rooms, and started preparing for the new university semester at Oxford.
Lilith was on her final year, studying for a Law degree, and Camila and Beatrice were on their third years. Camila was studying Computer Science, and Beatrice was pursuing a degree in Theology and Religion. Beatrice was on her final year, but she was considering pursing post-graduate study. Even though all of them had busy lives, they still found a way to make time for each other.
And for Mary and Shannon, of course. Mary wasn’t interested in university, and instead had gone for an internship in carpentry. She’d started a new job at the beginning of that year. Her girlfriend, Shannon, had gone to Oxford as well, and had graduated from her Law course last year. They’d all met at the same boarding school, and a series of events, including an unfair detention and a near expulsion for Mary had brought them all together.
Mary and Shannon had started dating in their last year at school, back before Beatrice was even ready to admit her own feelings about her sexuality to herself. By now, well, she had a bit more of a grasp on it, although she was yet to actually tell anyone out loud. She was sure that Mary knew though, judging by some of the looks she’d given her.
One day, she’d tell them. She just needed to make sure that she understood and accepted herself first. It unfortunately happened to be rather difficult to unlearn years of religious homophobia.
But yes, things were going almost perfectly at the house.
Almost.
The thing was that, well, there had been some odd happenings that had Lilith annoyed, Camila curious, and Beatrice confused.
First, their books kept moving.
With all three of them being avid readers of different sorts, there were books aplenty in the house. Some were for pleasure and some were for school. With so many books, at first the occasional displacement hadn’t been a major issue.
But then Lilith had nearly started crying because her Law textbook had disappeared from the table where she’d left it, and then they’d found it under a chair.
And then Camila’s copy of The Fault in Our Stars that she kept as a reminder of Middle School had ended up on her floor.
And then Beatrice’s coveted copy of The Priory of the Orange Tree, which she’d spent the past two years hiding from her parents, had ended up on the kitchen counter, when she knew it stayed in her bedside drawer at all times.
Lilith was convinced that Mary was coming into their house when they weren’t there, just to mess with them, and Camila was convinced that university was already making them lose it. Beatrice wasn’t sure what she believed, but it certainly was unsettling.
The next odd happening was one that only she had noticed, and had been sure not to mention to her roommates so as to avoid panic.
Beatrice stayed up late most nights, and sometimes she went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea. On the occasions that she had, she’d heard strange thuds and creaks, like someone had been going through their drawers and had then panicked and shut them when they heard someone coming.
But Beatrice had checked every inch of downstairs and there was no sign of a person, so she was currently chalking that up to it being an old house, and her mind being over alert.
It wasn’t a ghost, and she wasn’t worried. This was her house, and nothing was going to force her out of it. She would just have to get used to the weirdness.
+++
Things came to a head a full month after they’d moved in.
Camila and Lilith were both spending the night elsewhere. Camila had some sort of computer nerd workshop thing that went through the night, and Lilith was spending the night with Shannon doing some prep for a mock trial.
Beatrice was perfectly fine being alone in the house, because it meant she could play her music louder, and she wouldn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone when she went wandering through the house late at night.
In fact, after a few hours, she was starting to wish that she’d committed to just buying the house by herself, because there was something comforting about being able to sing along to the odd Taylor Swift song and not live in fear of the others finding out that she secretly loved the singer.
What could she say, the woman made some really beautiful songs?
The clock had creaked a little bit past midnight when Beatrice went downstairs for a cup of tea. She’d left her speaker on, because it was loud enough that she could still hear the music on downstairs, and was nodding her head along to the eighties song that had started playing as she came down.
Then she froze.
For a moment she just stood paralyzed on the stairs, certain that her ears were deceiving her.
But she continued to hear the sound, and there was no way that she was imagining it.
Someone was singing along to the song.
It was Somebody to Love, because Beatrice had always held a soft spot for Queen. Whoever was singing along definitely knew it well, and they weren’t a half bad singer.
That wasn’t the point.
The point was that there was someone in Beatrice’s kitchen.
Her hands were definitely not shaking. And that definitely wasn’t her heart accelerating in her chest like one of her father’s sports cars.
Her mind began to spin through possibilities, but all failed to make sense. If it was a burglar, why would they be so dumb as to sing along whilst trying to rob the house? If it was some murderer, wouldn’t they have followed the music to kill her?
If it was a ghost…no, Beatrice was not going to entertain that possibility, because it was ludicrous, and she was a woman of reason dammit!
Slowly, she began to move down the stairs, careful to keep quiet.
Whoever it was, it was a girl. Beatrice could hear her voice more clearly now, and there was no mistaking the feminine tone.
Beatrice waited by the entrance of the kitchen, trying to figure out how best to approach this situation. The girl definitely didn’t know she was there, she was too busy trying to belt out the song.
Closing her eyes for a moment, and trying to steady her breath, Beatrice decided to just go for it. Whoever it was, they were in Beatrice’s home, and she knew three different forms of martial arts, and she was going to be fine.
She moved around the corner.
And for a moment she just stared.
In the middle of the kitchen, there was a girl who looked about Beatrice’s age, performing Somebody to Love to the kitchen drawers. She even had a wooden spoon in hand as if it were a microphone.
The girl was dressed in an old blue hoodie and faded black jeans. She wasn’t wearing shoes and her white socks had holes on the big toes. The girl was completely wrapped up in singing, and with her back to Beatrice, it was clear who was going to have to make the first move.
So, Beatrice cleared her throat and asked, “Who are you?”
The girl spun around, her hair whipping around her shoulders as she did, performance forgotten. For a moment she just stared at Beatrice with wide brown eyes, mouth half open.
Then she said, “Oh fuck.”
And she completely disappeared, letting the wooden spoon clatter to the floor.