Charlie furiously tapped the “enter” key on her laptop as the coloured pinwheel mockingly spun. Her internet had worked perfectly all day, with three hours of Netflix binging (with only a few momentary glitches), two hours of YouTube music (ads and all), and an hour and a half of browsing fabrics online. Of course now, as she was trying to check out her shopping cart, her internet decided to drop to its lowest speed all day. Satellite had connected her back to the real world, which in and of itself was revolutionary. But her uplink was still a far cry from the saviour it touted itself to be. The outlay costs had been exorbitant (especially paying for it to be professionally mounted on her roof), the monthly fees took a sizeable chunk out of her living expenses budget, it had taken weeks for the dish to arrive, and customer service was near nonexistent. Still, since its installation a week back, she’d been able to receive WhatsApp messages from Tess for the first time in months. Video calls were still sometimes glitchy, but she absolutely took what she could get.
Sighing, Charlie leant back in her office chair, resisting the urge to keep tapping angrily at her keyboard. Perhaps it was a sign…her shopping cart had rapidly surged over her initial budget. And she still had fabrics sitting unused in her sewing room closet. As she was closing her laptop, she heard a slow, soft, yet deliberate rattle to her left; she knew what it was. Charlie turned quietly and deliberately, watching as the front door handle rattled before the lever was gradually pulled down. As the handle moved back to a neutral position, Charlie exhaled a long breath. The door handle rattled a few times more before stopping.
It had been two weeks since Charlie’s shimmering white visitor, one week since internet had connected her to the outside world, and five days since her door handle had first started moving on its own. The first time it happened, she’d been making herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, the door only just in sight. As the handle had rattled, her heart had leapt into her throat and her mug had dropped from her hands, smashing spectacularly on the hardwood floor. All manner of scenarios had raced through her head. A neighbour popping by because of some sort of emergency next door. A highway robber, come to take advantage of a woman living on her own. The satellite dish installer coming back to fix something he’d forgotten. Every option, from benign to life ending, had swirled through her head in a split second. What happened next, though, she never would have imagined.
The door pushed open, letting in the cool twilight air, to reveal no one. There was enough light that she could see for hundreds of metres beyond the open door, away to the foot of the hills, and nothing but the breeze stirred. She paused for barely a moment before adrenaline took over and she leapt for the door. As she pushed it closed, she took a moment to look both left and right of the doorway in case someone was lying in wait. No one was there. She tried to dismiss the occurrence as the breeze, despite the obviously rattling handle and pulled lever. The second and third time it had happened made it increasingly difficult for her to blame the wind. Now she never left the door unlocked. Or the windows. At least whatever it was also seemed to need keys!
The door made one final rattle then stopped. Carefully, Charlie stood and tiptoed to the window, peeling the curtain back to look out onto the veranda. The sun was starting to set, and a blue glow had descended over the hills. To both her left and her right, she saw no one. The only signs of life were the little midgy bugs attracted to the warm glow of her porch light. Releasing another long, slow breath, Charlie made her way to the kitchen to boil the kettle. She wished the door was the only odd thing that had started up since her visitor’s appearance. Things in the house had started moving too. Not much but enough to unnerve her. A mug she’d placed in the sink would be sitting on the bench the next morning. A chair she’d pushed under the table would be turned the wrong way when she next looked. All were small, almost unobservable occurrences, easily dismissed and forgotten as a once-off. Perhaps if she didn’t live alone, she wouldn’t have even noticed.
Settling herself on the couch with a steaming mug of Russian Caravan tea, Charlie opened her phone and scrolled through Facebook to distract herself. At least her phone still seemed to be connected. Amidst the myriad ads flooding her feed, there were snippets of her friends’ and family’s lives. A former colleague posting pictures of his trip to Prague (mostly photos of old buildings). The neighbour from her old apartment posting photos of her pregnant belly and complaining about swollen feet. And her brother, Robert, had posted a few days back with pictures of her two nieces, picnicking. She duly “liked” each post, leaving the obligatory “so jealous,” “congratulations — it’ll be worth it,” and “miss you” comments.
Just as she finished scrolling, her Facebook messenger pinged with an incoming video call from Tess, who’d obviously seen she’d been online.
Her heart fluttered warmly, and she smiled as she answered, “Hello!”
“Bonjour!” Tess grinned brightly. The video glitched and stuck for a moment before quickly catching up. Tess’s dark cropped hair was freshly washed, her tanned skin still gleaming from her recent shower. Her face was more well-rounded than Charlie’s – though that wasn’t hard, with Charlie’s lithe frame. Where she was skinny, Tess was beautifully slim. “Success! We connect first try!”
“I know.” Charlie laughed. “It’s a miracle.” She’d managed to call Tess a few times since her satellite had been installed, but it didn’t seem to like video calls, often dropping out partway through a conversation if the video wasn’t turned off. Charlie was hoping the connection would eventually improve as more satellites and uplinks were rolled out. Or whatever it was that made these things work. Even though Tess and Charlie had only spoken two days before, there were no awkward silences. They always seemed to have something to say to each other. Leon’s girlfriend’s latest judgy comments about Tess provided fodder for a good ten minutes.
“My new nickname for the girlfriend is la pute,” Tess said. She tried to keep her face serious, but Charlie knew her well enough to see the humour. Charlie opened her mouth to chastise her friend but bit her tongue as Tess’s expression changed. All humour had fallen from her face, replaced with a flash of confusion and then what Charlie could only assume was fear. She’d never seen Tess afraid before. “What’s that?” Tess finally breathed.
Charlie swivelled to look behind her, the way her phone’s camera was pointing. Nothing was behind her but her empty desk and entryway. “What is that?!” Tess practically shrieked, pointing once again behind Charlie, who stood quickly, knocking her chair, and pivoted around the room. Again, seeing nothing.
“What?! What is it?” Panic swelled inside Charlie. Tess didn’t mind a practical joke every now and then, but this was next level. “Nothing’s there.”
“There…” Tess said breathily, but at least more quietly. “Right behind you, don’t you see it?”
Instead of looking around the room, this time Charlie looked at her small thumbnail video image. A dark shape was flickering in the corner of her screen. She double tapped her picture to make it bigger. Her breath caught in her throat so spectacularly that she swallowed her own spit and started coughing. Standing in the corner of her living room, clear as day, was a dark, shadowy figure, its large piercing white eyes fixed onto her back. Just then, the call glitched and disconnected.
Charlie turned rapidly to look at the corner where she’d so clearly seen the figure. Though it was night, she had ensured plenty of lights were fitted during the renovation, and the space glowed warmly. There was no sign of any shadow figure. She jumped as her phone rang again, answering as fast as her clammy hands would let her.
“C’est quoi ce bordel!” Tess yelled, the connection suddenly perfect. So clear, in fact, that Charlie could see Tess’s tanned skin had turned distinctly pale. “Je suis folle…”
“Tess…” Charlie said quietly, needing to get her friend’s attention and reassurance. While Charlie may have learnt a few swear words and general phrases from her friend, she was far from fluent; Tess often reverted to French when she was emotional.
“Tell me that was a filter or something,” Tess finally said. “Why would you do that?! That was fucking terrifying.”
“Is it still behind me?” Charlie blurted, swivelling so that Tess saw the full breadth of the room behind her.
“Wha—? Non, non… Keep spinning.” Charlie spun slowly until she’d shown Tess the entirety of her living space, entry, and kitchen.
“Nothing?” Charlie said desperately.
“Non, no, nothing…” Tess’s voice shook. “What was that?”
“Not a filter,” Charlie said grimly. “God, I wish it was…” Her voice caught in her throat again. Now she was the one getting emotional — something that also didn’t happen very often.
“Oh, mon Dieu, please tell me you haven’t seen that thing before.”
“No. No, nothing like that,” Charlie clutched the phone tighter to stop it from shaking. “Can I please take you on a tour of the cottage? Just to make sure it’s really gone?” Tess nodded in fervent agreement. Charlie took her time, walking slowly from living room to hallway to bedroom to bathroom, ensuring her friend could see every nook and cranny. The long hallways that originally had endeared her to the property now seemed foreboding. The large bedrooms she’d once marvelled at for sheer space now had too many corners to hide in. Eventually, with no more shadow figures detected, Charlie ended up back at the couch, which she promptly flopped herself into.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Tess demanded. “What did you mean by ‘nothing like that’? What else has been happening?”
Charlie opened up about everything. The appearance of the white shimmering creature, the rattling door, objects moving around her house.
“I’m crazy…” Charlie sighed at the end, leaning back into the couch. “I mean, a top hat and loafers? How ridiculous!”
“If you’re crazy, so am I,” Tess said. “How do you even stay there?!”
“It doesn’t all happen at once, I guess. I don’t know… I didn’t want to believe it was happening. I don’t believe in ghosts. I’m rational.”
“ma chère, it seems you don’t have a choice now. My God, but it’s a little exciting too, non?”
“Maybe for you!” Charlie finally laughed. “I swear I’m losing my mind.”
“Did you research the cottage before you bought it? Did the real estate agent say anything? What about when you were renovating? Anything weird?”
“Why would I? I was interested in termites and whether it still had clay pipes. Not ghosts. No one mentioned anything weird.”
“You need to do some research, darling,” Tess said. “There must be records in Greenfields. Or talk to the real estate agent. Who knows what happened there or what the history of the place is? I’ll be your research buddy. You’ll have to let me know what you discover.”
“I’m glad you’re finding this entertaining at least.” Charlie smiled, enjoying the warmth and brief normality.
“Well, it hasn’t hurt you. I don’t think ghosts even can hurt people, right?”
“I don’t know. You do your research and let me know.” Charlie yawned. The conversation had dragged well past dinner and into the night.
“I should let you go, ma chère.”
“Sure…” Charlie said. “But…you wouldn’t mind…one more time?”
“Non, bien sûr. Of course,” Tess answered, not even needing to hear the question. Charlie took Tess around her cottage, once more checking every corner. Finally satisfied, she bade her friend goodnight.
“Good night, Thérèse. I promise I’ll love you forever.”
“Bonne nuit, Charlotte. Je t’aimerai pour toujours.”