Spook_me 2020 - Haunted - Chapter 4

[m_findlow]

Title: Haunted
Fandom: Torchwood
Characters: Jack, Gwen, Ianto, OCs
Author: m_findlow
Rating: M
Length: 50,847 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for spook_me 2020 Prompt - Ghost
Summary: The team investigate rumours of a haunted house in rural Wales.

‘Where do you want this?’ Gwen asked, cradling the inertial wave recorder, and catching Jack in a brief moment as he streamed past on one of his many trips from the coal house outside to the kitchen at the back of the house.

‘Just stick it on the dining room table with everything else,’ he replied. ‘Once we've done a proper reconnaissance of the place we can figure out what equipment to stick where.’

Ianto swept past, overtaking Jack on his own trip to the kitchen. He managed to spare Gwen a look as he went by. ‘Yes, I know!’ she said before he could get a word in edgeways, ‘don't scratch the table top!’ She puffed out a vexed breath. He was such a fuss pot sometimes! She'd been careful, laying out everything on the dusty table runners. At least the table was big enough for it all, sturdy mahogany with five chairs to a side and one at each end, with a huge crystal chandelier hanging over it all. There were days where she had no idea how they managed to fit so much equipment into the SUV, seeing it all now laid out along the large table. Jack must have packed up half the hub and brought it with them.

She took one last trip out to the car, gathering their three overnight bags onto her shoulder and a handful of plastic shopping bags, before nudging the door shut with her hip and heading back inside. She dropped the three pieces of luggage temporarily on the dining room chairs and carried the rest into the kitchen.

There was a small room at the back, just off the main foyer, which seemed to be a smaller dining room. It was just a pokey little space with a table and chairs for four and a window that let in lots of pale yellow light across the table. She dropped the bags on the table and peered out through the window. Hills rolled out beyond the house, finally disappearing into trees, but it was the funny stones poking up out of the grass not thirty feet away that caught her attention.

She was still studying the view when Ianto appeared, leaning in the doorway with his sleeves rolled up and his face flushed.

‘You can chase aliens all day long on a single cup of coffee and half a night's sleep but carrying a few bits of firewood has you out of puff?’

He rubbed the back of his wrist across his forehead. ‘It was a bit more than just a few logs. Had to get the boiler going from scratch, and the fireplace in the main sitting room. Plus it's a lot of stairs down there.’

‘Down where?’

He thumbed back over his shoulder. ‘The boiler is under the house. There's a narrow set of stairs next to the larder.’ As he said it, Gwen could hear heavy boots thudding up them as Jack came to join them.

‘Phew! Glad that's done. Couldn't fix us a coffee now that we've got enough wood for the aga, could you?’

‘Shall I fetch the water from the pond with a bucket, or can I expect that there's taps and plumbing?’

Jack grinned. ‘There's even a working fridge.’ He rifled through the bags on the table. ‘You can stick this in there,’ he said, handing over a carton of long life milk.

‘Anything else, sir?’

‘Nope. These biscuits can take care of themselves,’ he replied. Gwen heard him already ripping the plastic off a packet of what she assumed would be jammie dodgers.

‘Have either of you two noticed what's out there?’ she asked, pointing through the window. ‘Maybe I'm mad, but those things sticking up in the ground look a lot like gravestones.’

Jack came and stood next to her, the sound of muffled biscuit chewing continuing as he stared through the slightly grimy window. ‘I think you're right, Gwen.’

‘They carefully neglected to mention the graveyard in the promotional material,’ Ianto remarked. ‘I spotted it from the kitchen windows as well. And you wonder why people think the place is haunted.’

‘I don't think it would add to the overall perception of charm to advertise it,’ Jack said. ‘Don't get hung up on it. The dead stay dead. You know that.’

Gwen couldn't resist a tiny smirk as she looked up at Jack. ‘Except for you.’

‘What can I say? I'm one of a kind.’

‘Thank God,’ Ianto muttered. ‘Now, come help me find a kettle and some crockery? It'll all need washing, of course. And bring all that stuff from the breakfast parlor into the kitchen.’

Gwen raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Breakfast parlor?’

‘That's what it's called.’

‘Right. Of course. Silly me thinking it was a dining room. Could you direct me to the powder room before we have tea? A lady needs to freshen herself up for such a formal occasion.’ She grinned, hoping to jibe him sufficiently with his vast and quite useless knowledge of all things ridiculously middle and upper class.

‘As much luck finding one of them as there is finding a bloody microwave,’ he grumbled, opening all the cupboards in sequence. ‘Ah, found a kettle though,’ he said, holding a large metal pot aloft and walking it over to the stove.

She leaned over his shoulder, watching his attempt to light the medieval stove. ‘Your kettle is broken. It's missing a switch and a plug.’

‘Har har. Now, go be a good scullery maid and find some mugs to wash.’

By the time the kettle was whistling on the top of the stove and they were seated around the parlor table, any opinions Gwen held about the place being haunted had melted away. It was just a run down old country house with a lot of dated furniture. With the stove and the boiler room going, some of the heat was even starting to permeate through the kitchen. They'd also got a fire going in the large sitting room, though she doubted it would rise sufficiently to warm the rest of the house and the upper floor.

It must be freezing here in winter, sleeping up there with nothing but a hot water bottle and a few blankets. Lonely too. She couldn't imagine wanting to live some place so isolated from everyone and everything, not to mention the upkeep. By the time you'd finished dusting and polishing everything, it would be time to start all over again. She supposed that was why half the furniture she'd seen so far was covered in sheets, to keep off the dust.

‘So, what's the plan, Jack?’ She didn't imagine they were just going to sit here, drinking coffee, and wait for something to happen.

He threw back the last remains of his mug of coffee and leaned back in the wooden chair as if he were on holiday rather than on the job. 'We poke around the place, take a few measurements and figure out the best spots to stick all our equipment to monitor things.’

‘That's it?’

‘Well, yeah. For now. Unless you think whatever it is is just gonna knock on the front door and welcome us to the neighbourhood.’

She was about to remark that a little more research into the previous occupants wouldn't go astray when there was a loud rapping sound on the glass behind her. She jumped in fright at the sudden noise, trying and failing at the last second to maintain a hold on her mug, which went tumbling and smashed on the slate floor.

‘Iesu mawr,’ Ianto quietly swore, equally startled.

A face dressed all in black peered through the glass and Jack stood up. ‘Take it easy. It's just Father Michael come to check on us.’ He stood up and walked over to the back door in the kitchen, pulling it open.

‘Ah, I assumed that must be you with that big black car, Jack,’ Father Michael said. ‘I'm pleased you found the place okay.’

‘Good to see you, Father. And yeah, the satnav wasn't much use, but we made it.’

‘Mmm,’ he hummed, ‘phones and those sorts of things don't work so well out here. No reception. Without the landline in my office I would be completely incommunicado with the world.’

‘Not a bad way to be,’ Jack agreed. ‘Can I introduce you to my two trusty partners? This is Gwen Cooper and Ianto Jones.’

Gwen offered her hand to the elderly man. He was just the sort of placid, church type that Gwen pictured from watching too many rural television shows. How he'd ever crossed paths with Jack was anybody's guess. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Why don't you two get started on getting the lie of the place and setting us up?’ Jack suggested. ‘Father Michael and I will take a walk and he can get me up to speed.’

Gwen exchanged a look with Ianto that very clearly stated “he goes off for a stroll while we do all the work”. The look she received back was that of “what else is new?”.

‘Come on then, Ianto,’ Gwen said, grabbing him by the elbow and leading them off before Jack could issue any more suggestions about how they should spend their time. They could at least walk out of there looking like it was a conscious decision. Bloody Jack.

Next chapter...