Becket: Now Beckett had in his ways over long years turned into a mean man who sat alone in the old
and forlorn cottage. His face white and eyes hollow. Here be a man who would make Death wait so was his manner these long winter's nights.
The ghost: Drawing closer blurred and unclear. Felt first through its movement across the ground then to gather and rise in pitch like the whine of the churchyard gate sounding harsh and grating. A ghost that can appear at its will in any of the rooms, for when she appeared she
was wide-eyed and startled drawing in breath quickly albeit a last gasp before the extinguishing of life.