Welcome to my Advent Calendar Story Train, where you can read through 24 stories under the theme ‘Surprise’. Today’s flash fiction story is by me! (and boy did I struggle… again… to come up with a story.)

The Visit

The woman places a steaming coffee gently onto a ceramic coaster before sliding into the chair opposite me across the dining table. She fiddles with the worn hem of her sweatshirt’s sleeve and hasn’t looked me in the eye yet. Usually, when we are invited to the houses, the occupants can’t wait to tell us all the details. Instead, Tilda Wandsworth looks almost embarrassed that we’re here.

We’ve been doing this work for almost 10 years. Visiting historic sites, businesses and residences to hunt for ghosts. Not that I believe in ghosts. In fact, none of the three people in my team believe in ghosts or the supernatural or anything like that.

In fact, we’ve debunked everything we’ve come across.

In our time, we were shown poltergeist activity, random cold spots, whispering voices and several children could speak in tongues. All tested and proven to be false.

 Some are harder than others. There was the man in Shropshire who led us on quite the merry dance until we found out he’d actually bricked his friend into the large cavity wall space so he could perform some of the ‘ghostly hauntings’ without anyone catching him.

That one had almost caught me out, right up until the friend fell and injured himself and let out a plethora of rather spectacular curse words clear as day.

Many hauntings come down to the most mundane things. Strange noises were often branches on a window or mice in the attic. Cold spots are caused by covered heating vents or badly sealed windows. Eerie voices on the baby monitor were interference from another monitor in a nearby house.

Often, it turned out to be people just trying to get on our show. They all wanted a little bit of fame.

The team finishes setting up. Equipment and cameras are everywhere. We have done this so often, that I never have to say anything, they all just do their jobs. They had already done a walkthrough. Checked for hidden wires, vents, drafts, bad wiring and a whole host of other possible reasons that ‘spooky’ things happened.

“Mrs. Wandsworth,” I smile and watch her dark brown eyes lock on my face. “You say you have a ghost.”

She nods, furtively glancing around the room.

“An unhappy ghost.”

Another nod. Steve, my cameraman, shivers suddenly, drawing my attention. I frown but he gives a sheepish look and just shakes his head.

“It’s unbearable” she whispers.

Over by the sofa, surrounded by several pieces of so-called “ghost hunting” equipment, Linda my tech expert, presses her headphones tighter against her ears and squints at one of the screens.

For the briefest second, I could have sworn something brushed my back. Sitting up straighter, I shake off the sensation and focus on Tilda. I notice a small splotch of dark sauce on her top. She sees me staring and swipes at it, cheeks reddening from embarrassment.

I cough and glance down at my notes. “Why is the ghost unhappy?”

“Because of the house, he gets angry with how the house is.”

At this, I drift my gaze around the room. It’s a nice semi-detached house, well-decorated with subtle complementing colour tones. The furniture and decor are fashionable and everything is put together beautifully.

It’s actually a surprise that this house holds four young children. There are no toys out, no art on the fridge. Even parents who straighten up before we arrive can’t usually hide the fact they have kids. But this house looks like Tilda moved into it fully furnished this very morning, alone.

She’s pulling at her hair. It’s a little dishevelled. An odd thought creeps in, making me a little disconcerted, was this really her house?

“May I ask, how long have you lived here?”

“Five years.”

Her fingers are tapping on the table. The nail polish she wears is a slightly garish shade of blue and badly chipping.

I push away the strange thoughts invading my mind.

“Does he not like how it’s decorated?” I said with a smile.

“Oh no, he likes the decorations,” she replies, glancing around at the open-plan kitchen and living room. The kitchen looks newly fitted, modern and sleek. “He chose everything, right down to the paint and door handles.”

“I see.”  The smile freezes on my face, and I flick my gaze at Martin, my close friend and producer. It’s these little moments where we usually catch eyes and share the ‘look‘. But instead, Martin is rubbing his arms and staring at the floor.

Everyone’s reactions were starting to irritate me, though I’ll admit beneath the irritation was a tiny pinprick of worry.

“So, what does the ghost do?” I continue.

Tilda bit her lower lip, before lowering her voice and saying, “He moves things, all the time! I can barely put something down without him moving it.”

I nod, trying to keep a look of sympathetic understanding on my face. This was pretty typical. Homeowners claim ghosts are throwing dishes and opening drawers, flinging pictures off the wall or even piling furniture in the middle of the floor. It’s always some prank or trick with fishing wire or even something as simple as an uneven floor.

“Well, I can imagine how frustrating that must be,” I say, grabbing my coffee and taking a long drink. “After all, you keep this house immaculate.”

As I place the cup down on the tabletop, closer to me. Tilda’s eyes grow wide. Martin freezes. Steve’s camera wobbles and Linda covers her mouth.

A wintry chill blazes up the back of my neck and plumes against my cheek before a disembodied voice hisses clearly into my left ear. “Use a coaster!”

© Ari Meghlen 2024

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Author Note: Apologies for any issues with the tense – the story called for present tense (which I’m terrible at) as every time I wrote it in past tense it didn’t feel right.

Thank you for reading today’s story. The next one will be available to read on December 7th, titled “Red Balls“. This link will be active tomorrow when the post goes live.

If you missed yesterday’s you can go and read it here.

You can also visit the Advent Train Hub page where all the stories will be linked as they are released.

Thanks for reading

Source: Images from Canva and some from me.

© Ari Meghlen. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Ari Meghlen or their respective owners in the case of guest posters, podcast hosts etc. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and the development of machine learning language models.