In 1906 the religious order of Franciscans finished building a new house for their order and moved in. They called it Greyfriars. It was spartan and remained so. By the 1920s the house was fed up with the monks’ ideal of poverty; it was always cold and in disrepair. 

In 1940 the house was commandeered by officers of the Black Watch. When the soldiers left in 1949, the house had learnt all it never wanted to know about debauchery in all its forms. 

Greyfriars thought its days were numbered until 1956 when a couple bought it for a song and its happy days began. The new owners were Jackson and Elizabeth; known to all as Izzy and Jacks. 

As Izzy’s health deteriorated, Greyfriars was no longer spick and span. When dust clouds blew in sudden draughts, Jacks heard Izzy bellowing, For fuck’s sake, Jacks, get the bloody hoover, will you? He didn’t bother with cleaning but concentrated on caring for Izzy, to the exclusion of all else. Now, once the home of laughter and the convivial visits of many friends, are no longer, Greyfriars is angry. Not only is the house dirty but its impatient for the joy of human companionship. It no longer finds consolation in happy memories of the love between Jacks and Izzy that blossomed within the safety of its walls. 

In the early days of Izzy and Jacks’ life in Greyfriars it fell in love with her finding her beautiful. It felt lucky that it was furnished with invisible access to her body in various states of dress and undress. It never watched as she and Jacks made love; that was taking privilege too far. More than this, it couldn’t bear to watch them in bed together; that made it fearsomely jealous. But the cause of its love was not her body but her mind and vivacity.

When darkness in the house was at its worst, and loneliness crushed him, Jacks ventured into the garden. He knew he could escape Greyfriars, whilst it couldn’t escape itself, except by demolition. He shudders at the thought; he loves the place as does Izzy. Little did he know of Greyfriars’ passion.

Finally, as an elderly lady, she has a dangerous heart condition; in an emergency, Jacks places a tiny tablet under her tongue to save her life. One night, when Jacks is drunk, he can’t find the bottle in time. Izzy dies in his arms in their bedroom. Enraged, the house sees her death as murder. Greyfriars takes revenge. It locks the bedroom door with Jacks trapped inside, who, hysterical at Izzy’s death struggles to escape, frantic like a moth in a jar. The house makes every door and window impassible. 

Belatedly, neighbours raise the alarm; there’s been no sign of life in Greyfriars for weeks. Greyfriars opens its doors to the police who find Jacks’ and Izzy’s dead bodies. Greyfriars gives up the ghosts of those it has loved and lost. 

Six months later it’s a ruined corpse

---

I hope you enjoyed this story. Please feel free to pass it on to others who may be interested. You can read my previous 500 word stories on my website www.philcoskerwriter.com under ‘Writing’.>>>More

© Phil Cosker 2023
Phil Cosker has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work. All rights reserved; no part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted by any mean, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise without the prior permission of the author.