Abby watched Nina walk off towards the supermarket. Blonde hair swinging, confident steps, a neat bump, still effortlessly stylish. Did she dislike Nina? Not really. Was she jealous? Well, yes. It wasn't because she was married to Rory, it was because she had it all. Attractive, married, pregnant, happy, and living in a beautiful house. She would, no doubt, have lots of friends, too.
Not sure if she wanted those things for herself, Abby could see how happy they made Nina. Maybe it was her happiness that she begrudged. This was a woman who had found her place. How nice that must be.
What would make Abby feel that her life was sorted? Not necessarily a husband, but a man in her life may help. A kid? In the future, yes, but not now. Her job with horses was definitely a plus point. Out early each day, breathing the fresh air and being surrounded by wonderful animals was like living a dream. It was good, but not enough.
Whenever she looked at the picture of her and Rory, which now sat on her dressing table, Abby thought about that time in her life. The summer breaks from school, filled with lazy days spent with friends, had been so carefree. It was shortly after that photograph was taken, that real life problems invaded her idyll.
Walking into a room, a conversation between her parents would halt. There was a lot of whispering and some shouting. Paperwork spread across the kitchen table, bank statements and bills mostly, revealed what the trouble was. Money.
Abby had owned ponies all her life. She hadn't been indulged, but if she asked for something, she usually got it. Her mother dressed in expensive outfits. Chic suits and stylish dresses. Her father drove a luxury car. Trips out for lunches and dinners were all part of her normal life. The sign that the Phillips had money was that they never had to think about it.
Taking no notice of her father's business, Abby had missed a major piece of news. One of the companies which used the haulage firm's services, had been taken over. The contract for transport was not going to be renewed. Seventy percent of their income had been wiped out in a single stroke.
Looking back, her father had been coasting at that stage. Work came in regularly and, as a result, income was steady. The loss of business meant that Ron had to try to secure new contracts. When the change came, there was nowhere near enough work to replace what they had lost.
Drivers were made redundant. Lorries were sold off. The sale of assets kept them going for quite a while, but the inevitable result was that the mortgage could not be paid. Whilst not looking at a life of penury, the lifestyle that they had enjoyed was over. The luxury goods, the eating out, the ponies, would all be things of the past.
Ron had confessed that, whilst he had put some money in a pension, he had not saved for a rainy day. They had been living on borrowed time as far as their finances were concerned. The beautiful house on Meadow lane was put up for sale. Abby had just about coped with the change in their circumstances, but that was too much.
The house was sold and then her mother, Tracy, had left and filed for divorce. Other people thought that her mother had gone because the money had gone, but her father had been having an affair. All sorts of revelations had tumbled out of the woodwork. It was the talk of the town.
Staying in Fernborough, with her father, Abby saw her mother only about once a month. They got on okay, but had never been close. They enjoyed their meetings, but their lives were heading in different directions. Tracy had met someone new and Abby wanted to stay in her home town and near to her place of work.
The bedroom that Abby inhabited now, was a quarter of the size of her old room. A single bed and the dressing table huddled together so that a wardrobe could be squeezed in. Now she looked after other people's horses, not her own.
She had loved the Victorian house. It was partly about status, the big house on the edge of town. It was mostly because everything had been good whilst the family was there. The place had taken on a mythic perfection to Abby. It appeared in her mind in soft focus in perpetual sunshine. Laughter rang out and echoed around the, high ceilinged, rooms.
That was why it irked her to see anyone living in her house. One day she would live in it again. Not sure exactly how that would be achieved, all she could do at the moment was drive people out of it. She could get into the house any time she liked. How could that be used to her advantage? A plan had formed when the house first sold.
A Victorian house was just the sort of place which would be haunted. All those gothic novels had created a link between ghosts and old buildings. The plot had already been set up and all she needed to do was supply the action. Sneak in, move things, maybe break objects, and wait for the panicked occupants to leave. It wouldn't happen overnight, but that didn't matter. It was the result which was important.
Two sets of owners had been frightened away, so far. Abby had become more imaginative with her haunting as time had progressed. The Hamptons had proved remarkably stubborn, considering his illness. Not as resolute as her though. She had won in the end.
The fact that it was Rory and the, oh so perfect, Nina there now, was an added bonus. They had been stoic about the strange events, which was annoying, but worse was yet to come. Nina's pregnancy had, however, made things complicated. Just like when Derek Hampton had suffered a stroke, Abby would take that into consideration and would wait for a while before she ramped up the haunting.
On reflection, it would be worth the wait. Once Nina had given birth, the sleepless nights, coupled with increasing pranks, would pile on the stress. It wouldn't be long before the "for sale" board went up outside her house once more.