Whispers of Serpent's Manor

Ewan and Coby Talk About Ghosts

“What was that racket?” Ewan exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowed, as Gracie and Coby casually strolled into the kitchen. Coby shrugged nonchalantly, his gesture silently urging Gracie to respond to her son’s inquiry. The pungent scent of vinegar and sizzling haddock filled the air, teasing Coby’s taste buds with its delectable aroma.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Gracie replied in a disinterested tone, her voice lacking any hint of excitement. With a single glance, she shot Coby a warning look, a silent message passing between them that she wanted to be the one to handle the question. Ewan’s eyes darted towards Coby, pleading for answers, but it was evident that the adults were keeping their secrets close.

Ewan had grown accustomed to Coby’s peculiar way of life, where encounters with apparitions and strange phenomena were a regular occurrence. He himself had experienced spine-chilling discoveries, with spirits tormenting and teasing him. He knew better than to pry and interfere with the supernatural. Lost in his thoughts, Ewan’s distant gaze hinted at the vivid memories flooding back as he mindlessly devoured a handful of fried chips.

Coby settled himself into an uncomfortable chair, a glass of whisky grasped firmly in his hand. The room was filled with an oppressive silence, broken only by the relentless sound of rain pelting against the windows.

Ewan’s eyes stayed glued to his plate, refusing to meet anyone else’s gaze. With animated gestures, Coby recounted his spine-chilling discoveries in the dimly lit private library. Gracie’s eyes, wide with astonishment, fixed on him, silently asking how he could have the courage to enter a f*******n room of the manor. Undeterred, Coby finished recounting every aspect of the findings, and a heavy silence settled over the room.

Coby’s chuckle came out nervously as he felt weighed down by the oppressive silence. “It unnerves me,” he confessed. “The uncanny resemblance between Imogen and Isobel, it’s baffling.” He bit his knuckles playfully, releasing a melodramatic sigh.

Gracie leaned forward, her chin resting on her fingers, taking a sip of her crisp white wine. With a nonchalant tone, she casually suggested, “Maybe they’re actually the same person?”

It took a moment for the realisation to hit Coby like a ton of bricks, the whisky in his system causing a slight delay. “What did you say?” he exclaimed, snapping to attention.

With a casual shrug, Gracie repeated her theory. “Maybe Isobel and Imogen are one and the same.” Ewan, now fully engaged, shifted his gaze back and forth between his stepfather and his mother, curiosity etched on his face.

“My god!” Cobby exclaimed, his eyes fixed on the rain splattered windows, his forehead furrowed with concern. The sound of the rain hitting the glass created a soothing melody, but it soon gave way to his confusion. “No, it’s simply not possible. If they were the same person, it would be astonishing for them to have an identical appearance even after a significant passage of time.”

“Hmm,” Gracie said with a shrug, her fingers tracing the rim of a glass as she dried it, “Imogen could be Isobel’s daughter. Look at Ewan. He is a spitting image of his father.” Her raised eyebrow added a touch of intrigue to her words. Ewan, startled by the mention of his father, felt a pang of sorrow as the memory of his dad and the tragic reminder of his untimely demise resurfaced.

Coby pondered Gracie’s reasoning, his mind filled with a whirlwind of possibilities. Suddenly, the door burst open, unleashing a rush of icy wind that cut through his clothes, sending a shiver down his spine.

The storm outside raged on, as the trees were violently pushed and pulled by its ferocious winds, creating an eerie whistle through the branches. Cameron’s imposing silhouette stood framed in the doorway, a chilling presence against the backdrop of the tempest. Carrying a heavy pile of freshly cut wood, Cameron stepped into the warm, inviting kitchen, leaving muddy footprints in his wake.

“Hello Cameron,” Gracie said, as she pointed to a crinkled paper bag on the kitchen counter, “there are your shopping items.”

Coby flinched, feeling a rush of embarrassment as his face flushed crimson. He had completely forgotten about his promise to Cameron. His eyes met Gracie’s, filled with questioning and guilt.

Her mischievous gaze held a glint, dancing with mischief, as she casually stated, “I found the crumpled shopping list in your worn jeans when I did the washing.”

Coby’s lips formed a silent “thank you” from across the table, his hands coming together to convey his gratitude. He quickly gathered the empty plates and sprung up from his seat. However, Gracie’s piercing gaze held him firmly in place, serving as a silent reminder of his commitment to her. She playfully winked and strode down the hallway, her soft footsteps blending harmoniously with Cameron’s lively chatter in the distant living room.

Coby took a slow, deliberate sip of the rich amber whisky, relishing the warmth that spread through his body. With an understanding of what was about to unfold, Ewan kept a close eye on him, noticing a nervous flicker in his eyes. Coby cleared his throat, the sharp taste of whisky lingering on his tongue.

The slight warmth of the alcohol coursed through his veins, fortifying his courage for the upcoming conversation with Ewan. Being an adult who had never experienced the joy of having children, he felt hesitant about approaching such a delicate subject. Without hesitation, he plunged headfirst into the task.

“Son,” Coby began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of nervousness, “About last night.”

Ewan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers fidgeting anxiously. “Yes,” he replied, his voice rough with uncertainty.

Coby placed a comforting hand on Ewan’s shoulder, offering reassurance. “It’s normal for a young man to…um, explore,” he finally said, his words carefully chosen. “When I was your age…”

“But dad!” Ewan interjected, his words bursting forth, “I can’t control myself.” He blurted out, his voice filled with urgency. “There’s this…um…bonnie lass who wears scant nighties, and she follows me everywhere! I can’t stop thinking about her, and she…um…she…”

“Excites,” Coby supplied, helping Ewan find the right word.

“Yes!” Ewan exclaimed, his face lighting up with a mix of excitement and embarrassment. “When I think about her, I get a…um…a…”

“b***r,” Coby offered once again, his voice tinged with a mix of awkwardness and understanding.

“Yes!” Ewan cried out, his face turning a bright shade of red. “And then I close my eyes and I—”

“No!” Coby interrupted, his plea filled with a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort. “Don’t go into the gory specifics, please.” Ewan nodded, his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Does she talk to you?” Coby quickly asked, trying to divert the conversation away from the uncomfortable silence.

Ewan furrowed his brow, his gaze becoming distant. “No,” he replied, his voice tinged with longing. “I long for her touch, but whenever I try to reach out, my hand simply passes through her, leaving me feeling empty.”

Coby’s eyes widened in realisation. “What does she look like?” he asked eagerly, his grip on Ewan’s shoulder unintentionally tightening.

“Ouch,” Ewan winced, his face contorting in pain. He described her features in detail, while Coby stared at him wide-eyed, the image of the young woman forming vividly in his mind. The mention of “dimples” sealed the deal.

“Where?” Coby interrupted, unable to contain his excitement.

“Where, what?” Ewan asked, his confusion clear on his scrunched-up face.

“Where do you usually cross paths with her?” Coby clarified, his voice filled with urgency.

“We don’t really meet,” Ewan explained. “When I’m out chasing pheasants and rabbits, she follows me through the gardens near the cliffs.” The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, a remnant of the scented candle Gracie had lit earlier.

Coby’s heart raced with anticipation, the pounding echoing in his chest. “Is it okay if I tag along with you tomorrow for the rabbit hunting?” he asked desperately.

“Hell yeah!” Ewan exclaimed, excitement clear in his eyes. “I’d be pure chuffed if ye came with me.” With a mischievous grin, he gently blew out the flickering candle.