Special Mention - Emma Hardy
Jamaica Inn Retold
By Emma Hardy
On the most desolate corner of the Cornish moorland, the high metal pub sign swung in the
wind and creaked. Hushed whispers of highway men could still be heard between the mist,
rain and the unburied bones of wild animals.
“And that’s a wrap, thanks everyone.” The director walked off set, satisfied with today’s
filming. William Stargazer, presenter and well known TV psychic, was keen to hang around
the famous Cornish pub Jamaica Inn, a little longer.
The latest episode of Haunted Houses had just concluded, but William, despite not believing
one thing that ended up occurring in the show, wanted to believe. He felt different about
Jamaica Inn compared to other places he’d filmed. An avid reader, William wasn’t entirely
convinced that his love for Du Maurier’s novel had swayed him today. He stood on the shiny
but worn floor plaque where it declared “On this spot Joss Merlyn was murdered” and
shivered. Fiction, it was just fiction, he told himself.
The pub was mostly empty, except for a few regulars who tittered at the volume of visitors
believing the place to be haunted. The dark winter months on the moor soon saw visitor
numbers decline, with only those who dared visit around Halloween. William still had access
rights to all the four poster bedrooms as check in was not until later that day. He stood in
each room alone, stroking his grey beard as he listened for something, anything. A door
slammed. He rushed out, keen to explain the slam. No one. Nothing. Door number 5 had
been open only a few moments ago. He re-opened it and walked in. Despite all windows
being shut, there was a high pitched whistling, like an old kettle that’s screeching to be
poured. William clasped his hands around his ears- the noise was unforgiving. He paced the
room, reaching each corner of the bed, searching for answers but stopped when he reached
the mirror. The noise abruptly stopped when he laid his eyes on the words written on it.
“You’ll see me in your episode. Now leave us alone. JM.” It looked to be scrawled in a thick
black marker pen, but there wasn’t one in the room. JM? It cant be Joss Merlyn, William
pondered. He isn’t real. Ghosts aren’t real. This must be a cruel trick. Were the cameras still
rolling to prank him on television?
His attention turned back to the mirror. The words dissolved in front of him. He reached up
to touch them but they fizzled away. He rubbed his inkless fingers. He looked back at the
empty mirror, seeing nothing but his haggard reflection. Was he losing his mind? William
edged closer to the mirror to look at his face. This wasn’t a favourite past time of his - he was
tired of seeing it everywhere. Television adverts, front page of magazines, the show itself,
and theatre posters- he couldn’t escape his own face. But when he looked at his own
reflection yet again, it looked different. Gone were his grey whiskery beard strands and
replaced with a thick black stubble. His nose had plumped out and was now crooked and
broken. His cheeks, too, rounder and redder like a cherry. His pale gaunt demeanour had
disappeared in front of him. Who was this man? JM?
A knock on the door made William jump as a cleaner entered the room. He was concerned
how she might look at him- which face was he wearing- but normality seemed to present
itself.
“Oh Mr Stargazer how lovely to meet you. I was told filming was finished so I am so sorry for
interrupting you, I will leave at once.”
He eyed her closely. “No need, I was just leaving this room. Sorry. Carry on. As you were.”
As she folded her clean towels on the bed, his attention went back to the mirror. His face had
gone back to the one the public know and allegedly love. William waltzed out and went to
bedroom 6. Three girls in pigtails and chequered uniform were singing ‘ring a roses’ holding
hands and skipping in a circle. Upon seeing William, they screamed and ran out the room. He
went to follow them out and tell them he meant no harm, but when he went into the long
corridor, there was no sign of them. A smell of candy floss seemed to overwhelm the room
and it made William sneeze. He heard a scream as he sneezed.
“Who’s there?” he called out. There was an echo of his words but no response.
“Stop playing games with me!” He was angrier this time, unable to contain his angst.
He felt a whooshing breeze go through him and his felt his eyes grow much heavier, until he
curled up and went to sleep.
The cleaner woke him up, carrying on her duties and he jumped in surprise. His feet felt cold
as William realised his boots had been removed. He again apologised to her as he pulled his
boots back on. In doing so, he felt something at the bottom of his foot. A coin. This was not
normal currency and was not recognisable. The cleaner snatched it out his hand.
“Oh you have someone looking after you.” She said as she placed the coin back in his hand,
and rolled his hand up into a fist.
“I do?” He asked.
She nodded.
Weren’t spooky events meant to happen at night, say midnight in the pitch black? What had
happened here today? William left in a rush.
A few weeks later, the episode aired and never before had William bothered to watch an
episode back. Today, he looked for answers. The man’s face he’d adopted in that room had
hung in the air, like a disfigured parrot resting on his shoulder. He didn’t leave William’s side
the whole episode. The girls too, made an appearance in the corner of a camera shot. He
couldn’t believe it. This show was in its sixth year running and not once had he believed in
anything the contestants said.
He reached over to retrieve his copy of Jamaica Inn from his bookshelf. It was a battered
version, and one which had passed through generations of the Stargazer family. He turned
the sleeve, and went past the endpapers. There was an inscription “To William, its time you
believed dear grandson, have faith. Your loving grandfather JM.“
A polaroid black and white photo of JM giving young William the book fell out the book as
he closed it. He stared at it. In the corner of the photo were three girls fallen on the ground,
laughing and smiling between their pigtails.