Haunted by Love

Chapter 7: Restless Night

We go down for drinks in the bar and I try to persuade Ruth to book into the hotel for the night rather than risk the walk back. "Beth, I'll be fine, I promise. Besides, I need to milk the goats tonight and in the morning and, please don't think me a coward, but I don't think I could actually sleep here... sorry."

I'm surprised that such an amazingly together and capable woman has just said that. I also feel disappointed that she's going to leave me, though I'm not sure why. Perhaps because I want to know if she sees the ghost too, maybe I feel I need her strength or it could be simply that I'll miss her company. All of them, probably.

After just a single drink each I walk with her out through the front door of the hotel and cannot help shivering; the night is cold and when I look up there are a few clouds drifting briskly on the steady breeze lit by the moon that is waxing towards full. "See, with the moon that close to full I'll hardly need the torch," she says, trying to allay my fears.

"Ruth, please... please stay here tonight. I need you here, with me because..." there are several reasons I could give, "...because I need to know that I'm not imagining this."

"Imagining what, Beth?"

"All this spooky, creepy, scary stuff. Please. I can drive you to the farm and we can milk the goats together, you can grab some stuff and come back with me. I've only had one drink." There is an odd look on her face, almost disappointment as If she thought or hoped I might say something different; perhaps it was just the play of moonlight and the electric light above on her face because after a moment she nods.

"Okay," she acquiesces.

"Oh, thank you! It'll be like we're having a sleepover," I say happily as I reach out and hug her in gratitude. "Come on, lets sort out a room for you."

"Will I be sleeping in it?" she asks wryly, "Or is it just for decorum?"

"Well, I hoped we'd be in the same room, in case the ghost appears," I reply, "but paying for a room it does mean that you'll get breakfast."

"And the decorum?"

"Um, I think Alison Curnow might be wondering what's going on between us," I confess awkwardly. "I'm pretty sure she knew we were both in the room and I think she saw your trousers on the bed when you were in the bath earlier."

"Is that a problem for you, what she thinks?"

"Mum always said that there was nothing more important that your reputation," I reply, remembering her hand-wringing anxiety over what Mrs Jones would think about something or other or whether she should have told Eileen Jackson something else and what if Eileen repeated it to Linda May... "I really don't want to be like my Mum." I say quietly.

"So, shall we book a separate room for me or... whatever you're happier with because I really don't mind."

"I so want to say 'Fuck Alison and her opinion' but... I do need her and her husband's cooperation in researching and writing this ghost story so I can't risk upsetting them. I'm not saying that they'd be upset by us sharing a room, I rather suspect they might be more upset by the loss of revenue, but whatever, I don't want to risk it."

So that's what we do: we go and book Ruth a room for tonight. It's not next door unfortunately but along the landing to the left, through the arch and then down the corridor to the right; I don't think old Ken deliberately gave her a room miles from mine; I hope not, anyway. It's then the drive over to the farm, and some hasty milking. At least Ruth's is hasty; she has finished and has time to go, sort out her changes of clothing and return to the shed before I'm done. "Well done," she says and I finally finish.