Page 12 of Healing Hearts on Thistledown Lane: Part 1
‘Thanks. Do you want to meet for food tomorrow?’ Kirsty asked. ‘I can get Doug to collect the kids and put them to bed.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Maura said. Her niece and nephew were adorable but both were picky eaters and she suspected Kirsty would be glad of a night off. ‘My treat.’
‘I’ll book Georgie’s,’ her sister said. ‘Is five-thirty too early?’
The restaurant was one of Maura’s favourites, off the beaten track and serving delicious food made with locally sourced produce. It was not cheap. ‘Perfect,’ she replied, trying not to wince. ‘See you then.’
‘Great,’ Kirsty said, her tone much more enthusiastic. ‘Always best to hunt ghosts on a full stomach.’
Maura rang off and checked her banking app, pleased to see Fraser’s payment for the bowl had been deposited in her account, boosting her balance. That meant she could afford to take her sister to Georgie’s without dipping into the account she and Jamie shared. It wouldn’t have been a problem if she had – Jamie was used to her fluctuating income and never questioned anything she paid for from the joint account. But it was nice to be able to treat Kirsty all on her own, and somehow it seemed fitting that it was Fraser’s purchase that enabled her to do it.
It wasn’t raining as Maura and Kirsty arrived at the Mercat Cross around quarter past seven that evening but the air was cold and laced with fog. The pavements around St Giles’ cathedral were slick with moisture and it was impossible to see further than ten metres along the Royal Mile. Perfect weather for a ghost hunt, Maura decided as she wrapped her scarf more securely around her neck. On a night like this it was easy to believe claims that Edinburgh was the most haunted city in the world; Maura could certainly imagine a sinister spirit or two clustered in the deep shadows around the cathedral.
Fraser looked pleased when he caught sight of her. She hadn’t contacted him to say she was coming and if he was surprised that she’d brought a guest, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gave a little wave to show he’d seen them, and returned his attention to the couple before him, whose tickets he had been checking. Waving them past to stand beside the towering stone monument, he moved on to the next people in the queue. She was a little taken aback to see him turning a few people away. ‘I’m sorry but we’re completely sold out this evening,’ she heard him say. ‘Our numbers are limited to twenty, to ensure I can keep everyone safe in the event of paranormal attack.’
The deadly earnest with which he spoke made Maura smile and, beside her, she knew Kirsty would have raised eyebrows, but the couple lapped up the excuse and eagerly pulled out their phones to book for the following evening.
‘You’re popular,’ she said admiringly, when Fraser eventually made his way across to them to say hello.
‘We sell out most evenings,’ he said, without even a hint of self-satisfaction. ‘But it’s great to see you both. Nice to meet you, Kirsty.’
‘And you,’ Kirsty said, offering what Maura knew to be her most charming smile. ‘Maura has told me all about you.’
Fraser turned faintly reproachful eyes towards Maura. ‘You didn’t tell her about Louis, did you?’
Maura laughed. ‘I didn’t realize it was a secret. But no – I hadn’t mentioned it, although I’m obviously going to have to tell her now.’ She glanced across at the tree that stood a little distance away, where another tour guide was gathering his group around him. ‘I thought you might be dressed up,’ she said, nodding towards the man with his ghostly white face and heavy black cloak.
‘No need,’ he said easily. ‘Each to their own but I prefer a simple lantern and the power of the imagination to bring my ghosts to life. And speaking of which, we should probably get started.’ He waved them both towards the rest of the group and raised his voice. ‘Please, huddle close together. You’ll be safer that way.’
‘No wonder you were so keen to come,’ Kirsty murmured as they joined the edge of the small crowd. ‘Did he look like that at school?’
‘No,’ Maura lied, grateful when Fraser began to speak and saved her from the full force of her sister’s disbelieving look. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Dead Famous Ghost Tour. This evening, we will be exploring some of Edinburgh’s most haunted streets and, along the way, I’ll introduce you to some of her most infamous spirits. You’ll hear about Stuart the Slice, the grisly butcher who wasn’t too fussy about where he got his meat. You’ll learn about Dr George Rae, who stalked the city’s plague-stricken streets in a hook-nosed mask with his rusty knife, ready to lance the boils of the poor.’ He paused to let an ominous silence spread. ‘We’ll pass over long-abandoned streets that run beneath the city and maybe, if you listen, you’ll hear the screams of those who were walled in down there and left to die. But what you won’t hear about is any kind of cute little ghost dog. This is not that kind of tour.’
Maura listened, spellbound in spite of herself. He had the entire audience in the palm of his hand, plus a few more bystanders who had stopped to listen. No wonder he hadn’t bothered with a costume, she thought with a sideways glance at Kirsty. He didn’t need one.
‘I must warn you that this walking tour takes in some of the city’s darkest wynds and most twisted alleyways,’ he went on solemnly. ‘You may be required to run at any moment. It is not a tour for the faint-hearted, nor for the afflicted of limb. If either description applies to you then tell me now, because I must warn you, in the event of a supernatural assault, we may not be able to come back for you if you fall behind.’
‘Bloody hell, I’m almost scared,’ Kirsty whispered in Maura’s ear. ‘Should I tell him about my dodgy knee?’
Maura hid a smile. Growing up, Kirsty had always acted as though being the eldest gave her the right to boss her younger sister around. As they’d reached adulthood, it had morphed into a conviction that she was always right. It was quite enjoyable to see her out of her comfort zone for once. ‘Don’t worry,’ Maura whispered back. ‘I’ll protect you.’
‘Brilliant,’ Kirsty muttered. ‘We’re both doomed.’
Turning her attention back to Fraser, Maura saw him raise the lantern. ‘Now, if you’re ready, we’ll go to meet our first spirit on the aptly named Fleshmarket Close. Stay together and get to know the stranger beside you. There’s a chance you may need them before our journey is complete.’
He set off down the Royal Mile, his light bobbing as he held it high. The rest of the group broke into excited murmuring. Some hurried forward to speak to Fraser; Maura guessed they were real ghost aficionados who wanted the inside scoop on the stories Fraser was going to share. Maura had to admit she was impressed by what she’d seen so far. She’d known he must be good but she hadn’t expected to feel a tiny shiver of apprehension as they entered the narrow alleyway of Fleshmarket Close.
It wasn’t possible to walk side by side – by necessity, they moved in single file through the shadows. At the top of the stone steps, beside the Halfway House pub, Fraser paused and gathered his audience in close. ‘The year is 1842 and we find ourselves on Fleshmarket Close, in the heart of the city’s meat market. Times are hard, especially for those with little money but one butcher in particular could always be relied upon to find a decent cut of meat for a good price. His name was Stuart MacBinnie, also known as Stuart the Slice.’ He gazed around soberly. ‘Now, some of Stuart’s neighbours are becoming resentful of his success. They want to know how it is he can undercut their prices and supply his meat so cheaply, when the slaughterhouse dictates the price they all pay. Around the same time, a number of mysterious disappearances happen, mostly from the infamously licentious vaults beneath the South Bridge. It’s not long before one of the butchers, Jack Furness, starts to eye Stuart the Slice with suspicion. He breaks into Stuart’s backroom and makes a horrific discovery. Not only is Stuart behind the disappearances, but he’s also disposing of the evidence by passing it onto his unsuspecting customers to eat.’
A faint moan escaped the woman beside Maura but Fraser didn’t stop. ‘But just as Jack is about to make his way to the authorities, Stuart comes back and finds him. A desperate fight follows, during which Jack is mortally wounded. He manages to drag himself out here, where Stuart catches up with him. But just as he’s about the strike the blow that will finish Jack off, a pistol shot rings out. The bullet pierces Stuart’s heart and he tumbles to ground, dead before he even hits the pavement.’
‘Who killed him, you may ask?’ Fraser went on, gazing around at his rapt audience. ‘No one ever knew. Rumours flew that it was the lover of a missing woman from the vaults, who had deduced Stuart’s guilt and had come to take his revenge. It must be said that the authorities did not waste much time trying to catch the mystery sniper. But the other butchers began to report an unnatural icy chill around the spot where Stuart had died. Others felt a malevolent presence they couldn’t explain, as though an evil spirit watched them.’
‘My money’s on Stuart,’ Kirsty whispered to Maura. ‘But I suppose it could have been Jack.’
Maura tipped her head. ‘Or it could have just been winter, combined with some overactive imaginations.’
‘Spoil-sport,’ Kirsty said, rolling her eyes.
