[A/N. This is a story I wrote back in about 1996 when I was sixteen. It's not scary or anything, but it was my first attempt at writing a ghost story and I thought it was interesting, so I decided to post it up here and see what other people thought. I have to admit though, in reading it, I can see how much different my writing these days is to back then. But then I'm twenty three now, so you would expect that!]

Helen Meadows was pacing nervously. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, and her eyes were wide in her pale face. Where was that taxi? She'd ordered one almost half an hour ago and the lady had informed her, in her clipped London accent, that it wouldn't be long.

Helen walked to the window and lifted the curtain. It was a wet, windy day, yet a few Londoners had braved the cold and were out in the street rugged up and with their umbrellas as protection from the stinging rain. 'Not umbrella, brollie' Helen told herself with a quick grin. In the few months she'd been in the country she'd taken to some of the British language's quirks. She could just imagine the look on people's faces back home when she announced she was going down to the "chippie" to get some dinner. For that matter, what was everyone going to say about her arriving home so suddenly? She knew she was going to have to give some kind of explanation, but would they believe the truth? She hardly believed it herself and she knew that sitting in the kitchen of her mother's place in Richmond, Melbourne, it would all seem so very far away and unreal. She let the curtain fall back into place and moved back towards the hallway.

'Oh come on taxi, do hurry' She pleaded silently. If she stayed here much longer she'd go insane- or worse. A sudden chill made her shiver and goosebumps popped out on her arms. She remembered people telling her that someone was walking on her grave when that happened, but she pushed the thought out of her mind and swallowed her fear. 'Just don't think about it, Hel' She told herself firmly. 'Think about Robert, or work, or ANYTHING but that.' Unfortunately her calm advice wasn't exactly easy to take as the fridge in the kitchen made an unexpected noise and she jumped. Normally she was not a nervy person, and certainly not someone who jumped at little noises like the one the fridge had just made, but she had changed in the last few weeks- and not necessarily for the better. She glanced at her bags, piled by the door waiting. Had she forgotten anything? She lifted her eyes to the ceiling trying to visualize the state of the rooms up there. The image of her red hairbrush popped into her mind sitting on a ledge in the bathroom. 'Well let it stay there. There's no way in hell I am going back up there!' She thought firmly. 'Besides, the landlady will probably consider it a nice present.' The landlady would probably also be quite surprised when Helen returned the key on the way to the airport. The lease still had another three weeks left. At the time she'd thought she was so lucky to get the place. It was bigger than she had wanted, but it was so cheap that she hadn't been able to resist it. Maybe someone else might have asked why it was so cheap, but to the Australian tourist on a working holiday assignment at "The London Post" it was too good to pass up. Added to this was the fact that if she caught the tube it wasn't too far for her to get to work everyday. So Helen had snapped it up. A car drove past slowly and Helen held her breath but it didn't stop. Where was that taxi?

She fiddled absently with the thin gold bracelet on her wrist. Robert had given it to her the other week. Robert. She smiled slightly at the thought of him. Or to be correct it was Lord Robert wasn't it? She wasn't too sure about the British aristocracy thing, but she knew that Robert was the only son of a Lord, so even if he weren't yet a Lord he would be one day. His father owned half of England, and among that was the paper Helen had been working at. That was actually how she had met him. It had been on her second day of work, and she'd seen quite a bit of him for awhile.

She glanced at her watch- twelve thirty eight, and where was that taxi? It had been just on twelve when she'd ordered it. The rain started to get louder, and the wind rattled the windows. 'Oh for the Australian summer' Helen thought, biting her lip. She knew she'd go crazy if she didn't think of something else other than this house and what it contained, so she forced herself to think back to the day that she'd met Robert.