Sophie Spirit and the Batting Manor Mystery: Sophie Spirit, #1

By Sam Scott

Sophie Spirit, a deaf girl of unusual appearance, due to a rare medical condition, has spent her whole young life in London.

Unexpectedly, she finds herself living in a country village where she meets Humphrey, son of Lord and Lady Beaumont. It quickly becomes apparent that Humphrey will not be the only child she meets, when she is visited by three spirits who, when alive, were the children of the Beaumont's ancestors.

Strange things begin to happen, and all too soon Sophie finds herself entangled in a scary and devilish plot to strip the Beaumont's of the only life they have ever known.

Join Sophie as she experiences spooky, unnatural goings on and seeks to help Humphrey and his family combat the evil working against them....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stanhope Books
• Release date: Jul 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781909893139

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Copyright © Sam Scott 2021

All rights reserved

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without prior written permission of the copyright owner

The right of Sam Scott to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This Edition Published by Stanhope Books, Hertfordshire, UK 2021

www.stanhopebooks.com

Cover format by Lewis Brown © 2021

Cover design and illustrations by James Tiffin © 2021

ISBN-13: 978-1-909893-13-9

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For

Michael, Phillip and Daniel,

My world and my life.

With all my love,

Sam

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CONTENTS

Chapter One

Paragraph Squiggle with solid fill The Big Move

Chapter Two

Paragraph Squiggle with solid fill Meeting Humphrey Beaumont

Chapter Three

The Other Beaumont Children

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Chapter Four

Confiding My Secret

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Chapter Five

Time For School

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Chapter Six

The Violent Storm

Chapter Seven

Paragraph Squiggle with solid fill After The Storm

Chapter Eight

A Surprising Discovery

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Chapter Nine

Another Disaster

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Chapter Ten

The Spirit Of Batting

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Chapter Eleven

Confronting Rummell

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Chapter Twelve

Overcoming Evil

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Chapter Thirteen

The Battle Is Over

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CHAPTER ONE

The Big Move

I remembered the hospital visits.  I remembered packing up everything I owned, and I remembered saying goodbye to Mr Franklyn, our landlord and my only friend.  I remembered many things.  On this particular day though, the only thing I remembered was walking into the room that was to be my new bedroom, and the cold, haunting eeriness that washed over me.  A feeling, I soon learnt would return to me time and time again.

The room was large, with black wooden beams across the ceiling.  Apart from an old, woollen rug on the floor, a pair of brown and gold tapestry-style curtains at the window, a set of shelves on the wall and a box I had brought in with me containing my soft toys, the room was completely bare.  Not an inviting room for a twelve-year-old girl and certainly not like my old room.

I studied the view from the window: a view of fields and trees.  Quite different from my usual view of traffic and roof tops.  I felt the floorboards vibrate under my feet and turned to see my mum standing in the doorway. 

I watched her face as she spoke, Come on down, Sophie.  Dad has arrived with the van.  If we help him unload, we will get everything unpacked more quickly, especially your bed.  At least then you can get a good night’s sleep tonight.

I followed her down the half-winder staircase and along the dark hallway.  More beams and more woollen rugs.  This old Tudor farmhouse certainly did have a gloomy feel, that was going to take a lot of getting used to.  But get used to it, I had to.  From now on it was home.

The kitchen was the saving grace of the downstairs with three windows and an old, cast iron Aga that filled the room with warmth.

What do you think then, Sophie? Dad looked straight at me as he walked through the back door with a large box in his arms.  This one is for your room.  Lead the way.

He followed me back up the stairs to my new room at the end of the landing. Touching my arm to make me look in his direction, he said, I know it’s not London, but we really didn’t have any choice.  You will get used to it and your Aunt Hilda will make us feel really welcome.

I know, Dad.  It’s hugely different, but it will be fine.  That’s very odd. There was no mistaking the box I had left in the room was now open, and my soft toys had been placed neatly in a row on one of the shelves.

What is, sweetie?

My bunnies and bears; they were still in the box when I came downstairs.

Maybe your mum or Aunt Hilda got them out for you.

No, they couldn’t have; they were both downstairs.

Oh well.  They look nice, so I’m sure it’s not important who put them there. You know I am sorry about everything, Sophie, Dad told me for the hundredth time, placing the other box down.  It was not his fault the bank he worked for had made him redundant, and not his fault that the rent in London was so expensive.  Besides, you know the doctors are okay with it.  So, I reckon it will do you the world of good to get some country air into your lungs, and hopefully it will boost your confidence too.

I had lived in the heart of London my whole, short life and never experienced anything beyond.  We had needed to be close to the centre of the capital because of my dad’s job and for my regular hospital visits.  We had rented a large, first and second floor apartment from Mr Franklyn, who kept the downstairs for himself.  His wife had died when I was a baby, so it made perfect sense for him to live on the ground floor and let out the rest of the large London townhouse.  And it suited us perfectly. 

Dad, it’s fine, honestly.  I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun here with Aunt Hilda.  Come on, let’s find the rest of my stuff and get this room looking half decent.

Aunt Hilda was my mum’s older sister by ten years and had left London fifteen years before.  She bought Old Oak Farm with money she had earned working in the city and retired early to the East Suffolk countryside.  It seemed odd that I had never met her before today, but she’d had no desire to return to the city, having lived and worked there for so many years, and I, until now, could never leave.

Paragraph Squiggle with solid fill So here we were, all going to be living under the same roof.  Me, Mum, Dad and Aunt Hilda.  It was going to take some getting used to, but we would manage. I knew we would.

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Good morning, Sophie.  How’d you sleep? was how Aunt Hilda greeted me, as I walked into the kitchen the following morning.  At least I think that is what she said, as she wasn’t looking directly at me.  But that was okay.  She would get used to it. Everyone did.

Not very well, I’m afraid.

Not very well? I saw Mum say as she walked into the room.  Are you all right, Sophie?  I knew this move so far away from London was a bad idea.

Mum, I’m fine.  Just slept badly, that’s all.  It was very odd.  I woke up in the middle of the night shivering all over, and ...

Oh my goodness! You are unwell.  Maybe Dad can drive you to the local A&E to get checked over.

Mum stop!  I’m fine, really.  It was very cold in the room which woke me up, and as I lay there, I thought I could hear children’s voices talking.

Sophie, darling, you know that’s not possible.  You must have been dreaming.  You remember when you first lost your hearing, the doctors said you might experience dreams where you thought you could still hear.  I’m sorry, sweetie, it must have been horrible for you.

From the moment I was born, it was evident I was different.  The doctors did test after test, and after several months, concluded that as well as my newly diagnosed condition, I was suffering from a severe, degenerative hearing loss, and by the time I turned eight, I was profoundly deaf.  There were many other unusual symptoms too, and, as a young girl, I’d spent much of my life in hospital.

I’m sorry I never came to see you in hospital when you were little, Sophie.  I could never bring myself to make the journey into London.

It’s not a problem, Aunt Hilda.  We can make up for it now we are all together, I reassured her.

So, the doctors seem sure that you will be okay away from the hospitals in the city.  How do you feel these days?

Generally, much better, thanks.  It’s nearly a year since I last had to stay in, and I will get my regular check-ups at the hospital here.  As I get older, the doctors reckon many of my symptoms will get less, which is good news too.

Yes, that is good news, and I’m so happy to have you all here, Aunt Hilda declared.

That afternoon she took us for a walk and introduced us to the village of Great Batting.  It was a quaint hamlet that consisted of a village store and post office, a pub and a small recreation ground with a duck pond.  In fact, there was nothing ‘Great’ about it at all.

Batting is a strange name, Aunt Hilda.  Any idea why it is named that? I asked.

"The village originates from the Tudor times, and on the outskirts, there is a large manor house called Batting Manor.  It was built in the 1530’s and was owned by a man called Baron