The Trouble with Evie

Chapter 3

"They're refusing because there is some local legend that says this place is haunted. No wonder we got it so cheap."

Stepping past Brad, I walked to the men who stopped when I approached.

"Haunted, as in how exactly?"

"The original owner disappeared. No trace of him was ever found. He didn't have any family, so the fate of this place fell to the town founder, who decided that the place would be rented until the body turned up. The first tenants complained that the house wailed. They moved out after one night. Since then, it's been a long list of people who treat this place like it's an unfurnished hotel."

The last of our stuff was put onto the driveway, and one of the men pulled one side of the doors shut.

"We expect that you will call tomorrow to come and collect your stuff, but we don't work on Sundays."

With a firm nod, he turned back to the front of the truck as the other door was shut and locked. The other worker looked at me, giving a vague smile before following his co-worker to the front of the truck.

"You could at least take it to the living room," I yelled.

They ignored me. They also started the engine and drove down the driveway without so much as thanks for the business.

"Do you want to know something crazy?" Brad asked as he stopped beside me.

"Sure. Why not?"

It would only add to the rest of this craziness.

"They were supposed to collect payment."

"Pfft. If you decide to pay them when they call, only pay half because they've only done half a job."

We turned and looked at the house. It was pretty, a little old, and the chances of it being haunted were high.

"Okay, you start with the smaller stuff while I get the washing machine into the basement."

"How are you going to do that? Those jerks didn't leave the trolley for you."

"Good point. How about I go to the hardware and see what they've got? I'll even buy lunch while I'm out."

"Great. Something fattening, thanks."

Brad chuckled. He was searching his pockets when the real estate agent turned up. A pickup truck stopped behind him, and both men got out of their vehicles.

"Hello, Brad and Evie," the agent said with an eager smile.

It was far too ghastly for my liking.

"This is Ryan, our handyman. You don't mind if he takes a look at the stairs and that crack?"

"Sure. Can you help me get the washing machine and dryer down there as well?"

Ryan gave him a nod.

"Once I check that the stairs will take the weight."

"Then go right ahead."

The agent and the handyman wandered into the house. Brad turned with a smug smile.

"Looks like I saved a few bucks."

"Yeah, but what about my greasy lunch?"

"Alright, how about dinner? We can work for a few hours and get this stuff inside. Then we'll explore the town and see what's available."

"Yeah, sure. Sounds great."

It was lucky that I'd grabbed some fruit on the way out of the bed and breakfast this morning.

We'd been here a week, and so far, we hadn't ventured beyond the bed and breakfast and a few shops on the same street. Our time was either spent searching for a place or being stuck in that room while Brad worked.

When everything was inside, I helped Brad lift the washing machine and the dryer to the front porch so that if it rained, they'd be undercover. It was still sunny, but now there were clouds in the sky. The seconds were ticking before Hades returned to the doom and gloom that had been our first week here.

Brad ventured down to the basement. I sat at the top of the stairs and listened to them discuss the crack. It had gotten bigger since yesterday, and Ryan was concerned that moisture might be the issue. Ryan then suggested that he underpinned the area in case there was subsidence. He'd have to investigate it further, and while he did that, Ryan wanted the owners to authorize rectification works.

"The movers said this place doesn't have owners."

The three men turned and looked at me.

"Technically, the owner is long dead, regardless of what happened to him. At the time, the council decided to wait for relatives to appear and claim ownership, but that has not happened. So, its fate was voted by the townsfolk. Now it is owned by the heritage trust. Hopefully, they won't drag out the approval process."

Tom shrugged, giving me a vague smile that showed the false hope he held. It made me grateful that the stairs were alright because it was obvious that nothing happened quickly in this town. As for the wall, it was hard to say. Maybe they might rush it through, and perhaps I'd wake to find my bed had crashed through the floor and landed in the living room too.