A competition-winning ghost story: Mary and Mary

The winner of the Tales In The Dark ghost short story competition in the 18+ category was Michelle Helstrip, with her story Mary and Mary, which we share below.

MARY and MARY:

Racing up the grass-covered Castle mound was much more fun than walking around the chilly confines of nearby Fotheringhay Church, looking at all that stuff about Mary, Queen of Scots.

Being in prison and then being killed was gruesome, especially the beheading bit.

“But Mum, it was sooo long ago. I don’t really care”. Freddie could be heartless, even for a boy of 10.

Mary was rather more sympathetic towards her namesake. Maybe because, aged 12, she found herself hovering in that uncertain emotional world between adult and child.

Inside the Church, Mary had shivered, imagining the last evening of the Queen. Seeing the firelight, the candles, the Queen kneeling in prayer. And the Queen, raising her head to look directly at the child, beckoning her closer.

Mary gives a start, comes back to the present moment. But can’t shake the feeling that the Queen was watching her, is watching her still.

“Your rooms are at the top of these stairs”, says the receptionist, pointing upwards. “The very same stairs used by the Queen of Scots.”

Mary suppresses another shiver as the receptionist tells the story of the stairway coming from Fotheringhay Castle.

“Anyone seen the ghost of the Queen?” her Dad jokes.

The receptionist answers seriously.

“There have been a few sightings over the years, but not many. It’s said that she only appears before a tragedy”.

Realising that children are listening, she stops. Then she steps aside so that they can head upstairs.

Mary looks upwards, and could swear that she catches sight of a pale face, watching.

“Get a grip of yourself Mary”, she tells herself sternly.

During the evening, Mary feels a kernel of anxiety growing inside her. It wasn’t her fault that she’d seen the Queen. She didn’t want to.

Mary resolves to stay awake, to protect her family. But her eyes close.

She dreams of the Queen, walking down the stairs. Reaching the last step she turns and stares directly at Mary, exactly as before. But, this time, the Queen holds up a warning hand, a signal not to follow.

Pulsating noise pulls Mary awake.

“Fire alarm”, shouts her Dad. “I smell smoke! We need to go! Now!”

Leaving their room, her Dad turns toward the Castle stairway. Mary, remembering her half dream, urgently tugs at his hand.

“Not that way Dad. Please!!”

She races in the opposite direction, knowing that her parents and brother will have no choice other than to follow. Later, as they stand shivering in the courtyard, her Dad speaks.

“You could have got us all killed, by running off like that!”

The receptionist turns toward the huddled family.

“The staircase was already alight”, she says solemnly. “Your daughter saved your lives tonight”.

Mary stands, rigid in the cool night air. The Queen had brought salvation. Why? Did Mary want to save Mary? She doesn’t know.

But, every year on the anniversary of the Queen’s death, Mary leaves a floral bouquet on the Castle mound.