by Emma Fraser
‘No, there isn’t! You’re teasing me. I would have seen it.’
‘Unless you knew it was there, you’d never find it. You know the cupboard in the nursery? Well right at the back is another door. It looks like part of the wall but there’s a hidden catch which opens it onto the outside stairs.’
Olivia stared at the door with horrified fascination. If there were ghosts that was the way they’d come. Her skin prickled. What if Lady Elizabeth had been in her room? What if it hadn’t been a nightmare after all? What if she came back? But that was silly. Ghosts could walk through walls. They didn’t need doors. No. It had been a nightmare. That was all. She’d gone to sleep thinking of Lady Sarah and Elizabeth – no wonder she’d had a nightmare about them. But still…
‘Is that how Lady Sarah got outside without anyone seeing her? Is that why it’s kept locked? Because she escaped from the nursery and drowned?’
Georgina came back to sit on her bed again. ‘So you know about Lady Elizabeth and Lady Sarah?’
‘Donald told me and Agnes about them.’
‘Who on earth is Agnes?’
‘She’s the summer cook’s daughter. She came to Kerista for the day when her grandmother was ill. We were down at the west shore trying to teach the hens to swim when Donald discovered us.’
‘You were trying to teach the hens to swim? My dear, how very imaginative.’
‘I know better now,’ Olivia mumbled. She wished she hadn’t mentioned the hens. It made her seem very silly.
Georgina took a long sip of her champagne. ‘What did Donald tell you?’
Georgina listened intently, her lips slightly parted as Olivia repeated what Donald had said, revelling in being the centre of Georgina’s attention. She didn’t tell Aunt Georgina that she might actually have been visited by Lady Elizabeth. The hen story had made her look enough of a baby.
‘Do you know he told Edith and me that exact same story when we were children? I’d forgotten until now. It’s why we call that bit of the island Sarah’s Rocks.’ She laughed. ‘For the longest time Edith believed Lady Sarah was real and used to insist she join in our games, much to the annoyance of your mother and I.’
So Aunt Edith had seen Lady Sarah too? What about Lady Elizabeth? Had she also seen her? It was odd to have something in common with Aunt Edith.
‘So they do walk Greyfriars!’
Aunt Georgina laughed. Then she must have seen that Olivia was serious and a small frown puckered her brow. ‘They did live here once but I imagine Donald told you that story for the same reason he told us – to keep children away from that part of the island. Even the adults don’t risk swimming there. Apart from the riptide, there are nasty sharp rocks so you really mustn’t paddle there again.’ She tilted her head. ‘Tell me, were you frightened when he told you the story?’
‘No!’ Olivia lied. She wanted Aunt Georgina to see her as too grown up to be frightened by stories of ghosts. ‘Besides, I don’t think ghosts can hurt you.’ Not child ghosts anyway. Lady Elizabeth she wasn’t so sure about.
‘You are so very like Edith! Nothing ever frightens her either.’
Olivia didn’t want to be like Aunt Edith, she wanted to be like Aunt Georgina! She glanced over at the locked door. ‘Do you think it might be true? That Lady Elizabeth does walk the castle’s corridors looking for Lady Sarah and that Lady Sarah comes back once a year to be with her mother? Donald said Lady Elizabeth loved Lady Sarah too much and that’s why she can’t rest in peace. Do you think someone can love too much?’
Georgina twirled the champagne glass between her fingers and the light from the paraffin lamps caught on the crystal, casting shards of light on the walls. ‘I imagine with its long history Greyfriars has seen its share of tragedy, but I don’t think it has any more ghosts than anywhere else.’
Olivia held her breath. ‘You do believe in ghosts then?’
Georgina was silent for a long moment as if giving Olivia’s question full and serious consideration. ‘I think the only ghosts that exist are those in our heads,’ she said eventually. ‘Our guilty conscience. I think when we put right any wrong we might have done those ghosts disappear. Perhaps Lady Elizabeth didn’t love Lady Sarah enough to take care of her properly. Maybe if she forgave herself for losing her child, she’d be able to stop looking for her and rest in peace.’
Once more Olivia thought she saw a shadow cross Georgina’s face but when her aunt smiled again, Olivia knew she must have been mistaken. What did Aunt Georgina have to be sad about?
Georgina gave her head a little shake. ‘Hark at me! All philosophical. I can’t imagine you have anything to fear from ghosts inside or outside your head. You’re a good girl – one who is much loved.’ She took another long sip of her champagne, stood and ruffled Olivia’s hair. ‘I suppose I should get back. They’ll have noticed I’m gone by now.’ A mischievous expression crossed her face. ‘On the other hand, perhaps I’ll take a turn in the garden. Don’t tell them you’ve seen me. Pity the door to the secret stairway won’t open or I could have snuck out that way. I’m going to make it my mission to find that key.’
‘Don’t!’ Olivia wanted to cry. She still hadn’t made up her mind about whether ghosts were real or not and didn’t want to take any chances. She’d much rather the door remained locked.
When, with a last smile and a quick kiss on Olivia’s cheek, Georgina slipped away, Olivia felt as if she’d taken some of the light with her.
Olivia checked the door Georgina had shown her again, just to make sure it was locked, which of course it was. Perhaps she should ask Mother whether she could sleep in another room. One without hidden doors and secret staircases? But she loved the turret! And although she didn’t care at all for Lady Elizabeth she wouldn’t mind if Lady Sarah came back looking to play. Lady Sarah wouldn’t hurt her regardless of what Donald said. As long as she kept away from her rocks. Furthermore, if Aunt Edith wasn’t scared of ghosts then neither would she be. Feeling much better for having decided that, Olivia took her atlas from her shelf, located the correct map and traced the outline of Singapore with her finger. Aunt Georgina had invited her to stay! She couldn’t wait to go.
She sat in front of her dressing table and studied her reflection in the mirror, practising Georgina’s smile and the way she lifted one eyebrow.
The tinkle of Georgina’s laugh drifted through her open window and Olivia hurried across to look out. On the far side of the lawn, almost hidden by the shadows, champagne glass in hand, Georgina was spinning around as if dancing to music no one else could hear.
A flicker of movement from one of the windows on the ground floor caught Olivia’s attention. She wasn’t the only one watching Georgina. Standing at the library window, looking out, was Findlay.
Chapter Five
In the days that followed, the adults swam and picnicked, sailed and went out on shoots. There was an odd atmosphere about everyone, as if they were charged with electricity. Olivia kept hearing snatches of conversation, most of which she couldn’t follow, and whenever the adults spotted her, they would stop mid-sentence and start speaking of the hot weather or some excursion they had planned. They were definitely keeping something from her.
Olivia would loiter, trying to hear what they were saying, but the adults rarely stayed still long enough for her to catch more than the odd word or phrase. On one occasion, Agatha and Gordon had strolled past Olivia as she was sitting reading a book under the shade of a beech tree, Agatha muttering something about a scandal in Paris, and ‘how she had the nerve to show her face in polite society she had no idea!’ but, to Olivia’s frustration, she couldn’t work out who they were talking about as no name was mentioned.
This afternoon, the adults, with the exception of Findlay, had gathered on the lawn for lunch. So that she could watch them unobserved and listen to whatever secrets they were hiding from her, Olivia had hidden behind a tree – making herself as small and unobtrusive as possible, which wasn’t difficult as she wasn’t very big
to begin with – and especially if she pretended she was a statue and stayed absolutely still.
Chairs and tables had been brought out and arranged under the shade of a tree, a picnic blanket spread on the ground. Mother was sitting with her legs neatly together as she’d repeatedly told Olivia was the only way for ladies to sit. Father was next to her smoking a pipe. Georgina sprawled on the blanket, her face lifted towards the sun, in exactly the way Mother disapproved of, while Edith sat in one of the other wicker armchairs, her feet propped up on a stool.
Olivia wasn’t sure where Findlay was, out with his rifle probably. If she wanted to be Aunt Georgina, she also wanted to marry someone exactly like Findlay although she wasn’t altogether sure why. He wasn’t very talkative and always had to be coaxed to join in when, after dinner, the adults would dance in the drawing room to records they played on the gramophone, but he liked to sail and had taken the yacht out almost every day, either with company, or on his own, and once with Olivia. He rarely stayed still for longer than a few minutes, hence the reason he wasn’t here, preferring to go out with Donald and his gun. But when you were in Findlay’s company you felt as if you were the only person that mattered, even if, like Olivia, you were only nine.
But, as Olivia had overheard Miss Chivers say once, he liked his whisky rather too much for his own good. Whatever that meant.
The thing about Georgina was that only she could lounge in a manner that suggested she was about to fall asleep, yet the next moment spring to her feet with the speed of a cat. Today, she was wearing pale green silk pyjamas, the top cut low, revealing her long slim neck, and her long hair, the colour of the sky just before the sun went down, hanging loose around her shoulders.
Edith’s voice drifted across the still air. ‘If war is coming, I want us to face it together. If anything happens…’
They were all quiet for a while. A thrill ran up Olivia’s spine. War! What could be more exciting? She held her breath.
‘We don’t know for certain that there will be a war,’ Mother said. ‘There’s still a chance…’ She glanced at Olivia’s father who reached across and took her hand.
‘It’s inevitable, my darling. We should accept that.’
The servants had appeared with trays of sandwiches and tea so Mother let go of Father’s hand. Mother thought public demonstrations of any sort were vulgar.
Aunt Georgina sat up and lit a cigarette. ‘I think war might be rather exciting,’ she said.
‘You only think war will be exciting, Georgina,’ Mother retorted, ‘because you will be thousands of miles away from it all.’
‘I’ll still be doing my bit,’ Georgina replied. She ground out her cigarette on the grass and accepted a cup of tea from Aunt Edith. ‘I don’t blame you for not wanting to wait, Eadie. If I were you, I’d snap him up before someone else does. I can just see you, leading the life of a wife and mother, becoming all matronly, holding luncheons and attending to the less fortunate – you’ll be a force to be reckoned with – just like Harriet. When I marry, I still intend to have fun.’
Mottled red suffused Mother’s neck when Georgina said this, but Mother ‘didn’t deign to reply’ as Olivia heard her tell Father later. Olivia knew the sisters liked each other really. They were always together, walking arm in arm, chatting and laughing and teasing one another.
Georgina lowered her voice and Olivia couldn’t hear the rest of what she said, but she heard Findlay’s name being mentioned and something more about war.
Edith smiled dreamily. ‘Even if there is a war, it might not last very long.’
Mother was still frowning. ‘I can’t accept there is going to be a war, Peter. Not after everything Chamberlain has done to keep us out of it.’
‘He’s nothing but a fool if he thinks Hitler will be satisfied for long,’ Father retorted. ‘We’ve betrayed Czechoslovakia – didn’t keep our part of the bargain – damned dishonourable if you ask me.’
Father worked in Whitehall – something to do with the government, although Olivia wasn’t sure exactly what – only that he seemed to know things no one else did.
‘There will be a war,’ Father repeated quietly. ‘You can be sure of it. And it will last for years. Millions will be killed, just like last time.’
‘Oh, let’s not talk of war and people dying,’ Aunt Georgina said, lying back and placing her hands under her head. ‘It’s far too beautiful a day. Let’s talk about what we are going to do tomorrow instead.’
At that moment Findlay arrived back, his shotgun broken and held against his side, the barrel pointing down, the gun dogs running ahead. Laddie, Olivia’s favourite, immediately sought her out, his excited yelps exposing her to the adults.
Mother’s lips pursed and she beckoned Olivia over.
‘Olivia, I do hope you haven’t been listening in to the adults’ conversation?’ she said.
‘No, Mother!’ She pretended indignation, but when Aunt Georgina winked at her behind Mother’s back, Olivia realised she’d known she’d been there all along. She gave her aunt a grateful smile. ‘I only came in search of tea.’ She helped herself to a scone from a gold-rimmed plate and bit into it.
‘Darling, don’t stand and eat,’ Mother said. ‘Do sit down. And put your food on a side plate. What everyone will think of your manners when you go to school, I shudder to think!’
Olivia sank into one of the empty chairs. Findlay was standing with his hands in his pockets. Donald, who’d been out with him, had taken away the partridges he’d shot.
Mother shook her head. ‘There’s no point in worrying about something that might never happen.’ She stood. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I should go and discuss Saturday’s menu with Cook.’
That evening Olivia had begged and been allowed to sit in her mother’s bedroom as she changed for dinner. She’d helped Mother fasten her necklace, watching in awe as her maid did something to her hair, her fingers moving so quickly and so dexterously Olivia couldn’t ever quite see how she managed to make Mother’s thick, dark blonde hair look exactly like one of the models in the magazines Georgina liked to flick through.
Mother was already dressed in an evening gown that clung to her and showed off the deep blue of her eyes. Apart from Aunt Georgina (and the thought brought with it a shiver of disquiet – as if she were being disloyal), Olivia thought no woman quite as beautiful.
Father came into the room then and Mother dismissed the maid with a smile and a flick of her fingers.
‘You look as lovely as ever, my darling,’ Father said, taking Mother’s hand and turning it over so he could kiss the inside of her wrist.
Mother sighed at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Do you think we’ll ever come back here? I mean afterwards. If there is a war?’
Father looked at her, his forehead crinkling. ‘You’re very pensive tonight.’
Mother grasped his hand and laid it against her cheek. ‘I have the dreadful feeling something has come to an end. That things will never be the same.’ She smiled up at him but her eyes stayed bleak. ‘That we’ll never be as happy again.’
Her words made Olivia feel hollow in the pit of her stomach.
‘Chin up, old thing. It may not come to war. There’s still a chance, however small, that Hitler will back off. Regardless of what I said earlier, we must keep on hoping.’
Mother gave him a small, shaky smile. ‘Don’t mind me. It’s the black dog, that’s all. You know how it visits me sometimes. It will be all right. It has to be.’
Father noticed Olivia then, although she was trying to do her statue thing. ‘Olivia, shouldn’t you have changed? Off with you. Dinner, as you are well aware, is on the stroke of seven-thirty and you mustn’t be late.’ Although his voice was stern she knew he didn’t really mean it. Father never raised his voice to her. When his eyes flickered back to Mother, the hollow feeling in Olivia’s stomach got worse. She knew neither he nor Mother really believed that everything was going to be all right.
Chapter Six
In the Highlands during summer, night fell only for a few hours. Even then, it barely got dark before the sun rose again. Olivia knew this because she’d taken to creeping out at night when everyone was asleep. The island belonged only to her then and she wandered freely. She had come to know the island like the back of her hand and there was nothing on it to be frightened of, apart from the ghosts of Lady Elizabeth and Lady Sarah, and if she did come across them – well she’d deal with that if it happened. Thankfully she’d had no more nightmares about either of them.
As always during that long, hot summer, she’d left her bedroom window open. Dinner had been subdued. Findlay was to leave early the next morning to join his regiment and his imminent departure had cast a cloud over everyone and everything.