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Contents ( 89)
  1. The Secret of Cold Hill
  2. Table of Contents
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. 79
  82. 80
  83. 81
  84. 82
  85. 83
  86. 84
  87. Acknowledgments
  88. About the Author
  89. The Cold Hill Ghost Stories

The man gave him a strange look. ‘Pub?’

Jason smiled, pleasantly. ‘You were in the Crown, with Albert Fears, I think it was, at the bar?’

‘I was?’ The man seemed impatient to walk on, as if he were in a hurry.

There was something definitely odd about him, Jason thought. ‘You mentioned something about a digger – that you used to drive a digger?’

‘I did?’

Jason wondered if the man might have some form of dementia. ‘Do you by any chance know where the vicar might be today?’

‘The vicar, did yer say?’

‘Yes, the Reverend Fortinbrass.’

Observing Jason through rheumy eyes for some moments, he jerked a finger towards the church. ‘He’s in the back, out in the graveyard at the rear. You’ll find him there.’ He strode on, deaf to Jason’s thanks.

Jason walked down to the lychgate and pushed it open. Behind him he heard the roar of a tractor thundering down the road. He turned and saw it was Albert Fears, towing a large, rattling trailer full of sheep, with a barking collie at the rear of it, and driving far too fast. Jason waved a greeting at him, but the farmer stared grimly ahead, ignoring him.

He walked in the misty drizzle, up the church path then onto the wet grass and around to the back. Sheep grazed on the hill that rose up steeply beyond the end of the graveyard, which was bounded by a low flint wall. An old man in a cloth cap, he presumed a gardener, was kneeling, tending to a flower bed that ran the width of the wall. Jason could see no sign of Roland Fortinbrass or anyone else as he walked on, passing rows of graves. He stopped by one particularly grand headstone, in marble, standing over what looked like a family mausoleum. A former lord of the manor, he wondered? Curious, he read the names and inscription.

JOHN – JOHNNY – RICHARD O’HARE

4TH NOVEMBER 1943 – 26TH OCTOBER 1983

ROWENA SUSAN CHRISTINE O’HARE

8TH AUGUST 1954 – 26TH OCTOBER 1983

FELIX JOHN SIMON O’HARE

23RD JULY 1975 – 26TH OCTOBER 1983

DAISY ROWENA HARRIET O’HARE

10TH MARCH 1977 – 26TH OCTOBER 1983

LIVES CUT TRAGICALLY SHORT

NOW TOGETHER IN HEAVEN

Jason stared and read each of the inscriptions again. They had all died on the same day. Husband and wife and their children? What had happened? Had they been in a car crash or a plane crash, perhaps? It made him feel sad. Not quite sure of his reason, he pulled out his phone and took a photograph of it, then walked on, glancing around again for the elusive vicar. The strange old boy – Harry – had been very definite that he’d seen him here. He passed another, much simpler and more recent headstone.

HARRY PERCIVAL WALTERS

25TH MAY 1928 – 19TH OCTOBER 2008

Then a quite fancy one, more recent still, in white marble with black lettering.

OLIVER WILLIAM HARCOURT

27TH SEPTEMBER 1975 – 21ST SEPTEMBER 2015

CAROLINE PATRICIA HARCOURT

17TH APRIL 1979 – 21ST SEPTEMBER 2015

JADE HAYLEY EDWINA HARCOURT

24TH SEPTEMBER 2002 – 21ST SEPTEMBER 2015