Chapter 3

Troublemaker

Brahms watched Emma picking up the mess he'd created, with a sickly prideful and childish satisfaction. He was immaturely upset with her already and it hadn't even been a day since he invited her to be his new caretaker. Just like Greta, she didn't seem keen on following the rules. Although, Emma would've been in a lot more trouble if Brahms had seen the strange boy visiting in the middle of the night. But, thankfully, he'd been fast asleep and only woke up to find her and the stranger chatting by his grave. He contented with a quick shove to the bookcases to display his anger at what he could only assume was a brief transgression. Just as long as he didn't come back, there wouldn't be any more trouble. He didn't want to escalate things quite yet. He couldn't risk her running away from him. The stakes were higher. It was nothing short of a miracle she'd agreed to come at all.

He could hear her start to hum faintly through the walls, as she began sorting the books all wrong. Despite the fact that there was a small risk of exposing himself to her and he was still pretty upset with her, Brahms couldn't help but softly hum along. The sound of her voice was a symphony to the long silence he'd been forced to endure. He grew a small unseen smile and quickly realized his actions had been bitter and spiteful. Brahms knew he wouldn't win her over if he kept using such tactics. With the strange desire to reconcile, he quickly made his way through the walls. He snuck out of his panel in the back garden and quietly tiptoed through to the kitchen. Brahms took out the cold toast and replaced them with fresh pieces of bread. After raiding a couple other kitchen items for his own meals, he closed the back door with just enough force to intentionally make a sound.

Emma gasped and dropped the books that she'd been cradling in her arms. She'd heard something in the next room yet again. This time it sounded like the kitchen door. They had left through that door, and she hadn't gotten around to locking it again. She rushed in with a hardcover book raised in defense, sleep deprived and prematurely ready for a fight in the kitchen. However, the kitchen was completely empty. She looked down at the toaster and quickly realized what the noise was. Thankfully, she'd heard the toaster pop and the toast was still warm enough for the butter to melt onto it.

After eating minimal breakfast, Emma continued with the library. Once the books were shelved, she shifted the position of the velvet backed chairs and moved some of the little end tables. It wasn't too much of a difference, but it felt more hers. She continued onto the next room and the next room, changing whatever she could manage to lift. Oddly, the house seemed to be resisting her redecorating in the most subtle ways. There was a particularly ugly porcelain dog statue, that probably cost more than her entire wardrobe, sitting on a dresser in one of the leisure rooms. Emma swore she kept hiding it in a curio cabinet in the library, however, kept seeing it back on that dresser every time she passed the room again. She didn't stop working on the interior until around one o'clock when the exhaustion finally managed to hit her system. Although, it probably wasn't the best idea for her already screwed up sleep schedule, she took another shower and got ready for an extended nap. There was another apparent disappearance when she got out. Emma was almost certain she'd grabbed a new pair of underwear to change into, but could only find the pair she'd been wearing. After dealing with the minor inconvenience, she tucked herself back into bed and dozed off.

Emma woke up in darkness to the violent bright light and buzz of her phone. It was good to know she'd successfully managed to set up more stable wireless services sometime before her crash. Emma quickly answered it despite being a little disheveled and half-asleep.

"Hello?"

"Hiya! How's jolly old England?" a cheerful voice replied on the other end. Emma's eyes adjusted to the darkness a little more and found that she was in a very blurry video chat with her best friend, Hannah. "—You look tired. Did I catch the wrong time zone? I could've swore I had it right…"

"No, it's only like 8pm. I'm still in the adjusting process." Emma added, with a yawn, quickly flicking on one of her stained glass table lamps.

"I remember that feeling." Hannah laughed. The two had met through the same study abroad program to London that Emma had met Ryan through. However, unlike that ignorant moron that she'd just been stuck on a nine hour flight with, she'd managed to find a devoted best friend in her randomly assigned roommate. Although they'd talked briefly when they both were unpacking, their first real bonding moment was when they both woke up precisely at four in the morning because of their major jet lag. Despite not knowing each other, Hannah invited Emma to jump in her bed and they watched movies together until it was time to properly wake up. "How is everything in your fabulously old Victorian manor so far?"

"Still a little weird. It's a big adjustment." Emma replied, vaguely. It felt like she had a million stories already and it'd barely been a day. Hannah could obviously tell she was holding details back intentionally. Emma always held back her best stories and secrets for somewhat of a dramatic effect, but she should've realized Hannah wouldn't let her get away with tricks like that anymore. "A guy broke into the house last night."

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Hannah gasped.

"Yeah, even the home intruders here are nice and nonthreatening. His name is Alex. I might invite him around for tea sometime." Emma added. Hannah gave her a skeptic look at the mention of his name.

"Alex?—Really?"

"Oh, don't look at me like that! It's not like I named him." Emma groaned. She knew that judgmental look far too well by now. Of course, her best friend had been one of the first to get the details on her latest relationship disaster. "—How is he? Have you talked with him yet?"

"I don't think he's noticed, but it's not like he was ever my friend…"

"Yeah, he won't get wind that I've even left the country, till I post a picture with a vaguely attractive guy." Emma scoffed, bitterly. "That's exactly what he did with Josh."

"Of course." Hannah sighed. "He doesn't care about you. Why are you still so hung up?"

"I just need the time by myself. I'll get over him and we can be spinsters living in the middle of nowhere together. I promise."

"Well, anyway—you shouldn't be getting near any guys, let alone literal home invaders. Hannah added. You're all on your own out there. Please be more careful!"

"I will. I will…" Emma insisted, not at all convincingly. "At least till you come to live with me and beat up all the bad guys."

"The second I've got the money. I'm there." she smiled back. "It's not fair you get to live like Virginia Woolf while I'm stuck here—"

Suddenly, there was a light ringing sound from downstairs. Both girls jumped a little from the sudden noise.

"—What was that?"

"Doorbell, I think. Can I call you back later?"

"Take a blunt object with you."

"Bye!"

Emma waved goodbye and hit the end call button. Thankfully, the ringing persisted, probably realizing that this was a gigantic house, and it would take her a while to get to the door. She quickly put on something more company appropriate and went to see who was at the door. Surprisingly, after not even twenty-four hours later, stood her new acquaintance.

"The cavalry has arrived!" Alex grinned. He made a grand arm gesture as if he were presenting anyone else, however, there was no one behind him. "Care to join us at the pub?"

"Back so soon?" Emma questioned, acting smug to his clear eagerness.

"It was a dire situation. They didn't believe me about the mysterious girl living in the Heelshire manor." he explained, referring to a pair of boys standing near a car parked in the driveway. Clearly they were hesitant about getting any closer.

"You could've texted at least."

"I did. You never answered." he added. She quickly checked her phone and sure enough there were a few missed messages that must've appeared either sometime during her nap, or her call with Hannah. "Normally, I'm not the desperate type to show up uninvited, but a bad haircut was on the line."

"Sorry. Service isn't the best out here and I've been catching up on sleep." she reasoned, with a well-timed yawn to further prove her point.

"So, you're well-rested. That's good. Let's roll." he said back, a little too hastily.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I've still got a lot of work to do with the house and I really don't think I'm ready to go out on the town quite yet." she reasoned, as a fair excuse. Perhaps, it was mostly just Emma's insecure, antisocial nature getting the better of her. However, another reason that she wouldn't dare tell Alex, might've been the manor's looming presence over her. She had only really spent a day there, but for some reason it really felt like leaving it was a forbidden act. "I mean—how would I even get back home again if you lot are drunk?"

"Never fear! I have the solution." Alex smiled. "—May I present our heavily bribed and designated driver."

Sitting in the driver's seat of the car was her other brief acquaintance from the day before. Paul waved at her with a rather muted and disinterested expression. Something told her he wasn't too pleased to be dragged into such antics, but was still used to doing it regardless. He got out and joined Alex on the doorstep, figuring they might be hanging about a bit before they actually headed out. Also, he thought it might help to convince her he was here somewhat of his own volition.

"I want to be home by eleven." she added, quickly disregarding the manor's ominous warnings.

"Fair enough. That's when all the pubs close up anyway." Alex said.

"Can I use your loo real quick before we head out again?" one of the other boys mucked up the courage to ask her.

"Sure. Third door on the left." Emma replied. He took a deep breath and rushed into the house. Was that fearful running or did he just really need to go to the bathroom?

"Hurry it up, Wyatt! The house has her under curfew and so does your mum." Alex called after him.

"Do you gentlemen also want a tour of my haunted mansion? We're significantly cheaper then Disneyland." she exclaimed, playfully.

"Best not stay too long. Still not convinced it's a hundred percent safe." The boy, who was likely Gavin, said. He stretched his neck as far as it would go, obviously trying to peak at the interiors without actually having to step into the house. "You really moved in despite all the stories?"

"Better than living at home in America with my folks." Emma shrugged. "It hasn't been that bad."

"Come on Gav!—I think a quick tour of the graveyard will liven you up." Alex added. He threw his arm over him and started leading them off towards the darkened area, leaving Paul and Emma on the illuminated doorstep.

"I'm so sorry they roped you into this." Emma said, sensing this was also not his idea of a typical night but was being dragged along anyway.

"It's fine. I don't mind it much…" Paul assured her.

"I don't even drink though."

"That's fine too." he assured her again. It was a small comfort when usually other guys always thought she was bizarre and not much fun because of her choice to abstain from drinking. "Any particular reason why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's just never really interested me." she reasoned, trying not to sound too somber and completely kill the mood. Other people couldn't seem to understand her reasons. Apparently it was bizarre that she'd rather not waste a bunch of her cash on slightly addictive substances.

"Perfect. Babysit this lot with me then. At times it can be very entertaining." he said, with what might've been his first actual smile.

"Don't hog the ghost girl to yourself, Paul!" Alex shouted, coming around the corner again, still dragging along his unwilling friend.

"Yeah mate! Think of poor Anna. She couldn't stand it if you got a girlfriend." Gavin shouted as well.

"Who's that?" Emma asked, hesitantly. While it was completely idiotic to have her heart sink over a man she hadn't even known for forty-eight hours, she couldn't help but feel a little disheartened by what was most likely a girlfriend, or a strong crush at the very least he didn't want to upset. However, before he could answer properly, Wyatt reappeared from the house.

"—Alright, I'm still alive! Let's goooooooo!"

They piled into the car and drove the twenty minute ride from the desolated Heelshire manor into the quaint little English town. The pub was the only lively scene in the whole area. Emma thought it quite similar to the ones she used to go to in London, which wasn't fairly surprising. However, unlike the big city pubs, the patrons were exclusively middle aged or elderly. Alex seemed to be leading the only group of at least slightly younger people. The crowd was still laughing whole-heartedly, and some people were even dancing by an old jukebox in the corner. Wyatt and Gavin went to find an empty table, while Alex and Emma took their orders to the bar. After picking up drinks and making a few introductions for Emma to the people behind the counter, they settled in a booth near the back.

"She had me buy her chips instead of a drink!—Can you believe the gall of her, fellas?" Alex laughed, upon their return.

"I don't see the problem here. They're significantly cheaper then alcohol and I skipped dinner." Emma reasoned, scooting into the booth towards the salt and malt vinegar. "It's never the wrong time for fries. Fight me, Haircut."

"That's great!—Pass some over." Wyatt grinned, already making a grab for the food.

"You've picked up an interesting addition to the squad, that's for sure." Gavin laughed.

"Are there any girls around here that I can hang out with? No offense. I'll probably need a backup when I inevitably get sick of your antics." Emma asked, suddenly. She was happy that they seemed like they were going to keep her around for a while at least, however, she was afraid it might not last.

"There's a few," Alex replied, hesitantly. Clearly, he didn't seem like he was a fan of sharing his brand new friend and the thought of possibly letting her go after a while hadn't even crossed his mind. "—but you don't need them when you've got us. How could you ever get sick of this face?"

"Sorry—Alex is a big subscriber to the 'finder's keepers' method of friendship. I don't think he's going to be much help." Gavin explained. "Try Vanessa and lot, if you feel like annoying this guy. She dumped him five months ago and he's still livid about it."

"I'm not livid! I'm totally over it." Alex pouted, in a tone that definitely did not sound in any way over it. "Besides, me and Jared started dating like a week later."

"—And that lasted about two weeks before you dumped him for no reason." Wyatt argued. "He's a bit of a slut, if you haven't guessed."

"Oi!"

"How about you, ghost girl? How's the dating scene in the afterlife?" Gavin asked Emma, suddenly.

"Well, I couldn't exactly bring a boyfriend with me." she answered. It was vague enough to suffice as an answer and also not admit that she didn't have a boyfriend to leave behind in the first place. It was nothing to be ashamed of, especially considering this lot didn't look to be dating either, but the sting of fresh unrequited love gave her a horrible yearning to be with someone. The best way to cure this was to stay away from the opposite sex, however, that clearly wasn't happening anymore. "What happened to Paul?"

"His folks own the place. They probably needed him to help out with something." Alex added. Emma took another quick glance at the couple she'd met behind the counter, while she and Alex had been grabbing drinks. now that she saw them with this new information in mind, he did look a lot like them. "Don't worry. He'll be back eventually. Your escape car is still secured."

"That's good. I was just checking." Emma insisted.

Suddenly, a big, fluffy, yellow creature leapt into the booth and landed across Alex and Emma's laps. Emma looked down just long enough to see the sweetest golden retriever face, before she was attacked with kisses and loving bites.

"Anna!" Paul exclaimed, rushing over to pull the dog off of them. "Sorry. I had to grab something from upstairs and she escaped."

You idiot. It was a dog!

Emma felt instantly stupid to have felt a smidge of jealousy over what turned out to be a very lovable and adorable dog. She kept repeating the fact that she'd only known him for twenty four hours and should definitely not be getting jealous over him, but the rational part of her brain didn't seem to be listening. The rest of the boys all got up to pet the dog, despite Paul's clear intent to get her back upstairs without causing much more of a scene. Realizing they werent going to disperse, he took up the seat beside Emma. He looked rather tired, but Emma thought it was quite admirable he was still sticking true to his word, despite the clear exhaustion.

"I didn't mean to leave you with the wolves. It's a bit busier than usual and I kind of work here also." he sighed, taking a sip from one of the boy's untouched water glasses.

"You're fine. They explained it already." Emma assured him, with a warm smile. "You seem rather hard-working and responsible. How'd you get settled with this lot anyway?"

"Mostly circumstance. I've known them since we were babies and pickings were slim." Paul said. Emma couldn't relate, as a big city gal, but she still understood one of the downsides of being in a small town. Community was inescapable. "Nobody ever really leaves this town or moves here."

"I guess that makes me not only your local ghost, but also your local nobody."

"You're not a nobody. Maybe a bit naïve though..." he added. Emma frowned. What did he mean by that? "Do you really not know what happened in that house of yours? Or are you just taking a note out of the Heelshire's uppity handbook and playing dumb to the ugly rumors?"

"I didn't even know I was technically a Heelshire until a couple weeks ago. Please enlighten me about these apparent stories." she reasoned, in her own defense.

"So, the Heelshires were your typical uptight, posh, old money families. Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire were fairly horrible people, but everyone in town took pity on them after they lost their son in a fire." Paul started to explain. He gave her a moment to digest and react, before he continued. He was also slightly checking to see if he wasn't overstepping things by insulting the deceased members of her family, even if she didn't know them. "Ultimately, it wasn't healthy for them. They began to pretend that their son was still alive and even went so far as to hire nannies to take care of him up until their suicides."

"The driver mentioned something of the sort when I arrived." Emma added. "I'd read about the big fire, but I thought he misspoke when he mentioned driving up a nanny to watch Brahms only a couple of years ago."

"No. Apparently, 'Brahms' was very particular and normally the girls would only spend a few days at the house before he'd sack them. They'd always end up coming back saying they were just a looney old couple, and Brahms wasn't real. However…" Paul hesitated as he once again approached another thorny part of the story and had to tread as carefully as he possibly could. "The last one. She was an American like yourself. Her name was Greta."

"What happened with her?"

"She lasted a few months before she came back, like the others. But she didn't come back with the same type of stories…" he paused once more, obviously wondering whether or not he should actually be telling her this. Although it had felt important to inform her of this gruesome history regarding her new home and her new family, it might've been too much. He didn't want to scare her off of the place entirely. "She claimed that Brahms was actually alive, and he'd tried to kill her."

"Oh my god. That's horrifying." Emma gasped.

"It might've been if anyone took her seriously. They never actually found any evidence of 'Brahms'. Just the body of her abusive ex-boyfriend in the parlor." Paul explained, quickly dropping most of the cautiousness. He finally realized there was no way to tell her this story without clarifying all the horrible details. "The cops pieced together he came storming in drunk and tried to attack her. She was let off because it seemed like just another classic case of self-defense. After a while, she stopped trying to convince everyone it was Brahms and just went back to America with Malcom."

"Malcom?"

"The delivery guy before me. That's actually how I got the job."

"You know anything about a list?" Emma inquired, suddenly. Doll Brahms and his list of rules made a little more sense if they'd been given to this nanny by the dwindling old couple who thought they were leaving their child in her care. However, there was still the small mystery about who decided to make that particular alteration. Someone who must've really hated Malcom.

"Like a grocery list? Yeah, you give me one every week and I do your shopping."

"No, I mean a list of rules. For Brahms."

"Can't say that I have ever heard anything about a list. Sorry." Paul replied, honestly. It only took him another moment to realize what she'd actually said and digest it a little more in his mind. "Did you find a list for him in the house?"

"No." she lied, immediately. However her sudden detour was way to suspicious to go unnoticed by Paul, so she fessed up a second later. "I mean, technically yes. But I'm sure it was just left by the old nanny or maybe one of the construction workers as a big joke to go with the creepy doll."

"A very haunted cliché. If you plan on opening a haunted house, you've got a lot of good material."

"I'm technically a writer. I don't really do much horror though."

"That's a shame. Think of the billions." Paul laughed. He checked his watch, which Emma hoped was because he was responsible and not because he was already bored with her. "—Well, normally I'm not one to follow the rules, but you are running up on your curfew."

"You're definitely not a rulebreaker." Emma stated, strongly for-a-matter-of-fact.

"Fair point. I should've guessed you'd already figured that out by now." he added, sheepishly. Regardless he started getting out of the booth and lending her a hand out as well. It really was time to end the night. "Come on. We'd better round up the idiots."

After somehow managing to coerce three drunk guys back into the car, they drove the small journey back to Heelshire manor. Since the guys were nearly passed out sleeping in the backseat during the ride, Emma got to sit in the front seat. One of her favorite things was the exclusive feeling of riding in the passenger seat at night. The feeling is often exemplified when the person driving is someone you like. They didn't talk too much, but just enough casual conversation went by so that things wouldn't get too awkward. Eventually, Paul pulled up through the driveway and Emma got out. She waved goodbye, however, he was clearly hovering to make sure she actually entered the house before pulling away again. Emma retrieved the old fashion key from the depts of her bag and unlocked the heavy wooden door.

AHHHHHHH!

Emma fell back onto the doorstep. Paul immediately exited the car and ran over to her. The rest of the guys woke slightly, but didn't dare exit the car. Paul helped her back to her feet and looked into the house to see what had spooked her. Sitting in the middle of the atrium with his little list of rules was the doll Brahms. After her initial shock, she recovered quite quickly, and rose back to her feet to retrieve the little demon. Despite her dislike, she held him like she would a real child and didn't chuck him into the nearest trashcan.

"Paul meet Brahms." she added, presenting him the doll.

"Nice to meet you, Brahms. I've heard all about you." he smiled, shaking the little porcelain hand.

"Alex must've told Wyatt about the doll and the list. I thought he was in the bathroom way too long…" Emma mumbled, bitterly. She ran back through the doorway and shouted towards the car of boys who were still half asleep.

"—Wyatt, you're banned from the house until further notice."

"What did I do?" Wyatt groaned, his face helplessly pressed against the glass of a partially opened window.

"We'll talk about this when your sober, mister." she yelled. Emma retreated back inside with an angry huff. "Ugh, I can't believe I agreed to be in this band of immature jerks."

"You'll get used to them in a few years." Paul insisted.

"Who knows if I'll last that long though." she sighed. it really had felt like she'd packed an entire week into twenty-four hours with the amount of stuff that had somehow happened. She thought she'd signed up for a quiet life in the country, but this place was turning out to be even more lively then the life she'd left behind.

"I believe in you." he added, with a small smile. "Well, I've got to get this band of immature jerks home and I think Brahms is way past his bed time—I'll see you around."

"You don't always have to wait for grocery days to come by!" Emma called after him. It was a bit risky and desperate, but even if they would only cause her more trouble, she knew that Paul and those idiot boys in the car were not the type of people she would only want to see once a week. "I might go mad if I'm left here on my own with just my weird doll child for company—I'm just saying."

"I'd come see you…" Paul hesitated, and her spirits sunk. It sounded like he didn't want to see her outside his obligations. However, instead of answering properly, he held up a piece of paper and pretended to be reading it intently. Emma quickly realized she had not picked up Brahm's rules and he'd probably used the opportunity to grab them when she was yelling at Wyatt. "—but apparently that's against both rules one and eight."

"But you're such a rulebreaker. If I know one thing about Paul is that he never follows the rules, especially rules one and eight." she insisted, as she not so casually made grabbing gestures to try and swipe the list back from him.

"Have a good night." he laughed, as he finally handed it back to her.

"You too."

They waved their goodbyes in the silent night and Paul drove away. Emma closed the door. Unfortunately, it was just her and Brahms again in the harsh silence.

"Come on Brahms. It's time for bed." She sighed in resignation, folded up his list, and preceded to escort him back upstairs. She arrived in Brahm's room and flicked on the little bedside table lamp on the dresser. Although, Emma could've just set him back up in the rocking chair, she'd decided to be kind and tuck him into bed.

"You scared me half to death, but I still had a good night—so I'll do it just this once…" she told him. Emma looked around, even though she was almost certain no one was watching, leaned in and suddenly kissed the doll's forehead. She couldn't tell if he was pleased or grateful. His soft painted complexion remained unchanged, naturally. She turned off the light again and shut the door.

Good night, Emma…