Prologue: 2016

Thomas Thorne, a dramatic, flamboyant poet with a love for his work, sat comfortably on the window sill of the button house library. It was all he had left really, having been dead for centuries no family members ever came to visit. He felt alone.

Well, he felt alone, but in reality he shared the house with a good deal of other ghosts. The captain, an army captain from the Second World War. Mary, a woman burned at the stake after being accused of being a witch. Lady Button, a stuck up Edwardian woman who was killed by her cheating husband. Pat Baker, a scout captain killed by a stray arrow. And kitty, Humphrey, Julian and Robin too, all having their own stories.

At the moment though, Thomas felt undoubtedly, unmistakably, painfully, alone. Oh how he wished something new would happen. He hoped for someone new to move in to the house, to give him something to focus on. He sighed, imagining a beautiful maiden moving to the house, living peacefully. Though he was then saddened by the realisation that she would never be able see him.

The current owner of the house, the frail old Heather Button, had also been in need of a change of scenery. The house's dilapidated state had only worsened as the years progressed, and a bit of extra money would go a long way.

So, she'd rented it out for a month, to a musician to be precise. A young woman who was rapidly climbing the charts, securing hit single after hit single. And she was paying well to have an old place to record in.

And so, on that pleasant summer morning, Heather left the house, catching a train to her summer home. Not long after she'd left they arrived, and the ghosts were ecstatic. Well at least most of them were.

"Who in the Bally hell is this?" The captain exclaimed, stepping aside as two men carried in a large amp.

"It looks like a recording crew Cap! All these amplifiers and sound decks, this could be interesting!" Pat chirped, adjusting his golden framed glasses.

"Oh please, it's just going to be unwanted noise in my house!" Fanny whined, tutting as the roadies brought in more and more equipment.

Thomas had heard the commotion from upstairs, and had come down to investigate. "What's going on? What is this incessant racket?" He glanced around at the roadies as they placed down the speakers, what on earth could this be?

That's when the heard a loud engine from outside. Naturally they all rushed to see what it was. It was a motorcycle, black and white. It's rider was a tall figure in black. They kicked out the kickstand and dismounted. That's when they removed the helmet.

Thomas could've sworn he felt his heart jump when he saw the woman's long wavy locks cascading down her back as she removed her helmet. She slowly unzipped her leather jacket, revealing a softer denim one inside. His eyes followed her as she entered the house, the heavy souls of her boots thumping against the wood floors.

"Oi! Markus I'm here, where the hell are you?" She questioned. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. The place was smaller than she'd thought, but it would have to work.

A small man popped up from over the banister of the stairs. "Oh Elizabeth! You're here! Finally. Now we can really get going"

"Who are these people?" Thomas asked Julian, since he'd been here the shortest time, he'd assume he'd know.

"Look I haven't got a clue mate, all I know is that whoever she is, she's bloody gorgeous!" He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Thomas tutted, turning his attention back to the woman. So Elizabeth was her name. All he hoped is that she would stick around.