by Pat Herbert
“Could be. Though it’s difficult to explain.”
Lydia rose from the table, her egg yolk exposed but uneaten, and went over to the window. She stared out at the bent figure that was busy pulling up weeds. “I think I’ll go out and speak to him,” she said after a moment.
“You bloody well won’t, you know,” said Minty with determination. “Not with that cough. I’ll go and fetch him in here.”
“No, don’t do that, Mint. I’m not sure I could face him yet.”
Lydia sat down on the bed as another fit of coughing took hold of her frail frame.
“Why not, Lyd? What’s there to be afraid of? I’m here. I won’t let him do anything to you.”
“It’s not that ... it’s just that I – I – oh, I’m not sure, Mint. It’s getting to me...”
“What’s getting to you? You’re not making a lot of sense.”
“Look, Mint, I can’t explain right now. I’m tired. Can you give me some of that cough mixture?”
She indicated the bottle containing a rather unpleasant-looking brown liquid that had been prescribed for her by Robbie. It tasted as foul as it looked, but it did the trick. When she had taken the requisite two spoonfuls, she was calmer.
“You know, Mint, I should see him. I won’t rest ’til I do. Go and fetch him, will you? Please?”
“If you’re sure you’re up to it?”
“No, I’m not sure. But I have to put my mind at rest, one way or another.”
Ten minutes later, Minty ushered in the gardener.
“Here you are, Lyd, love. I asked him to come and see you and he very kindly left what he was doing. I told him you weren’t very well and that he mustn’t tire you out. Shall I stay?”
Lydia looked up from the bed and stared at the old man.
“Teddy?”
“Mum?”
Minty left them together, closing the door quietly behind her.
Chapter Forty-Two
Nova switched on the kettle and put a spoonful of instant coffee into the only clean mug she could find. She had forgotten how lazy the others were about doing the chores. She had been spoilt at the vicarage, with both Dorothy and even poor old Mrs Harper making sure everything was shipshape. She had played her part as well, of course, but there hadn’t been that much to do. Dorothy did the bulk of the work while Mrs Harper was in hospital and continued to take the lion’s share while she was recuperating. It was a bit of a rude awakening to see the piles of dirty dishes in the sink and the layers of dust over everything. She had only been gone three weeks, for God’s sake.
As she sat sipping her coffee, she tried to think about Mike and how kind and supportive he had always been. But her thoughts kept wandering to Bernard and his cold-hearted dismissal of her the night before. She had had no alternative but to return to Common Way after that. She had never been one to stay where she wasn’t wanted. She had left without a word to Bernard or Mrs Harper, although she was sorry not to have said goodbye to her. She would miss her almost as much as Bernard she realised, as she surveyed the mess in the kitchen. Mrs Aitch wouldn’t have stood for that, for a start.
Mike came into the kitchen, washed up a mug and joined her in an instant coffee.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” he said, looking at her sympathetically. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Have you?” she said, absently.
“Of course, I have. This place hasn’t been the same without you. The others have missed you, too. And, I know this sounds odd, it’s as if the house itself had been missing you.”
“How d’you mean?” she asked, sipping her instant coffee. It tasted foul.
“I can’t quite explain,” he said. “It’s just that, while you were away, there was definitely an eerie atmosphere. I felt something oppressing me, as if it wanted to communicate something but couldn’t get through. I think that, now you’re back, we should ask Dorothy to come and conduct another séance.”
She looked at him with only vague understanding. “All right. If you say so.” She got up and poured the rest of her coffee down the sink.
“If you’re sure?”
Mike sighed. Even though she was physically in the room with him, she seemed to be somewhere else entirely at that moment. He wasn’t certain she had taken in what he’d just said. After all, another séance was a big deal, surely? They weren’t just discussing what they should have for tea.
“Yes, why not?” She turned from the sink to face him. She looked more than tired, she looked lost.
“Good. I’ll call her tomorrow and arrange it.”
“You do that. Now, I feel tired all of a sudden. I think I’ll go up and have a rest.”
“Don’t you want any supper?” He was already rummaging in the fridge for something to cook.
“Not really. Looks like no one’s bothered to do any food shopping while I’ve been away,” she observed from the doorway, as Mike’s rummaging yielded just one egg and a piece of dodgy-looking brie.
“Enough for a small cheese omelette, at least,” he smiled. “Shall I ask the vicar and the doc to come to the séance, as well, by the way? Like before?”
She gave him a strange look. “You want the vicar to come?”
“Yes, why not?”
“Oh, nothing. Do what you like.”
Nova ascended the stairs on leaden feet and flopped on the bed, closing her eyes as she realised just how tired she was. However, sleep didn’t come. Instead, she was immediately assailed by hidden forces determined she shouldn’t find oblivion.
She tossed and turned as she tried to free herself of the malevolent spirit now holding her prisoner on the bed. She found she couldn’t get off it despite several strenuous attempts to do so. Then she rolled over and over to the edge but just as she was about to fall to the floor, she felt a hand gripping her by the shoulder and forcing her back on the pillows. There was nobody there, nobody visible, at least. But there was someone, someone determined to hold her attention. What was it trying to do to her? What did it want?
She opened her mouth to scream for Mike but no sound came out. Then suddenly, she heard a voice, an uncultured female voice. It was quite deep, but it was definitely female. A young woman. Nova was very frightened now.
“Hello,” said the voice, which seemed to be coming from the curtained window. “I’m glad you’re back. Since you went, I’ve tried to speak to that bloke of yours, but he’s resisted me all the way. Now you’re back, I’m trying to get inside you again, but I can’t. Still, now you can hear me proper, like.”
“What do you want?” Nova tried to mouth the words, but still, no sound came out. However, the disembodied voice seemed to hear her all right.
“I want to set the record straight, that’s what I want,” came the reply. “I’ve been here so long, and I’m getting tired. I need to rest. But wrongs have got to be righted first. You can’t see me, can you?”
“No,” Nova mouthed again, “but I can hear you. Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“I will when I’ve got justice for myself and others who have been wronged. I need to show you something, but you can’t see me. You ain’t got the gift, have you? Not like that tall man with the glasses. He saw me. I need to show him something.”
“Tall man with glasses? I don’t know who you mean.”
“Handsome fellow. Knows it, too.”
“Oh, do you mean Dr MacTavish?”
“Could be. Didn’t get his moniker. But he saw me, all right. He’ll help me, even if you can’t no more.”
“I think the doctor will be coming here again at some point, as we’re going to hold another séance to try and get rid of you.”
“Charming! I’ll have you know I was a right bobby-dazzler in my time. I wasn’t always so unpopular. Being a ghost don’t win you many friends, I suppose. Anyway, I want rid of this house myself. I’m sick of the sight of it. By rights, I should be sitting on a cloud, playing a harp. Although it sounds a bit boring, actually. Still, it’ll make a chan
ge from these four bleeding walls. But I need to find out what happened to my son, first. Until then I’ll have no peace.”
“Neither will I, if that’s any comfort to you.”
It probably wasn’t, but there was no reply and Nova suddenly realised she was alone. The atmosphere had lifted measurably and she slumped back on the pillows, falling instantly into a deep but troubled sleep.
Chapter Forty-Three
Lydia lay on top of the bed, fully clothed, looking dazed. Ted was back at his duties in the garden and Minty was by her side once more, eager to hear what had passed between them. It was the first solid fact she had learned about her friend in all the time she had known her: she had a son, albeit an estranged one, or so it seemed.
“He’s not my real son, Mint,” said Lydia, when she was calmer. “I sort of acquired him.”
“Acquired him?”
“It’s a long story, and I haven’t got the strength to go into it now. Except to say I’d felt obliged to bring him up, as his mother had entrusted him to me.”
“So, what happened to her?”
“I don’t know. No one knows. She just went out one day and never came back. All I know is she came here, that’s why I’m here, sort of.”
“Here? You mean to this place? But I don’t think it’s been built very long, Lyd.”
“Not here in this place, I mean Wandsworth.”
“Oh, of course. Sorry.” Minty laughed. “Me and sticks. Wrong ends and all that.”
“Yes, well, to cut a long story short, he’s here for the same reason.”
“Because of his mother?”
“Yes. No. Not exactly. But he wants to find out what happened to her as much as I do. He’s lost touch with his son and daughter-in-law – another long story – so he wants to find them. Thinks they might have come here because I told his son about his real grandmother.”
“Goodness. What a complicated situation. But, tell me, I got the impression you weren’t all that pleased to see him.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement, Mint. By the end, I hated the bloody sight of him. Rolly, my husband, was good to him, and they got on all right, but really we neither of us wanted him around.”
“That must have been hard on Ted.”
“Well, if he’d been a nicer child, maybe we would have taken to him more.”
“Can’t say I liked the cut of his jib much, myself,” observed Minty.
Lydia had a fit of coughing at this point, and Minty played Florence Nightingale, once more. When the coughing had subsided, Lydia lay back on the pillow, looking serious.
“You think I should feel sorry for him, don’t you?”
“Well, he does seem a bit down on his luck. Still, he’s got a nice job here and a roof over his head, which is more than a lot of poor beggars like him have these days.”
“Yes, but you see, he told me he’s dying, and he wants to make his peace with me – and any of his family, if he can find them.”
“Oh dear, bad luck. So, did you make your peace with him, then?”
“Not on your life. Not after what he told me.”
“What was that?”
“He’s the reason I’m homeless.”
“How come?”
Lydia went on to tell Minty what Ted had told her, about how he had set fire to her home, thinking she was in it, so that he could cop the insurance money and anything else that was going in her will.
“What a complete and utter bastard!”
“Yes, so you see, I’ve every reason not to like him.”
“You can say that again, with knobs on.”
“Says he’s very sorry and wants my forgiveness. Well, he can whistle for that. If I hadn’t been away that night, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“That was lucky, then. Where were you, by the way?”
“On holiday, would you believe? I was at Bridlington. I go – used to go – there every year.”
Lydia got up off the bed and moved to a chair by the window. The sun was weak but doing its best. Even in December, if a garden was well-cared for, she thought, it could be as charming as in spring or at the height of summer. She tried not to think just who was responsible for making the view before her now so pleasing.
“So, what are you going to do about him? I mean, he’s here and you’re here. Trapped together. It’s not like you can kick him out, and I’m sure you don’t want to leave.”
“There’s nothing I can do, love,” sighed Lydia. “Anyway, I’m not long for this world, so it hardly matters.”
“Stop saying things like that, Lyd. You’ll live to make old bones, yet.”
“Are you serious? How much older can my bones get?”
They laughed. Whatever the future had in store for either of them, at least they could face it in comfort. Together. There was no doubt about it, the Winter Park Eventide Home wasn’t a bad place to end their days. They looked out of the French windows at Ted who, despite his faults, they could see was doing a grand job in the garden.
Chapter Forty-Four
Nova had been back at Common Way for a little over a week. Apart from one more visitation by the vexed spirit she had seen the day of her return, she hadn’t been bothered by any other manifestations out of the ordinary. Her sleep had been unbroken most nights, and Mike had managed to get the full eight hours, too.
She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror, glad to see that the dark circles around her eyes were fading at last. There was even a sparkle in the hazel pupils now. She sighed. If only Bernard could see her as she looked now. Then her heart gave a leap. They were holding a séance that very evening. Perhaps he would be there. If he wasn’t, then that was that. She would know, for sure, that he wasn’t interested.
“Hi, Nova,” Mike called from the bottom of the stairs. “Dorothy and Robbie are here. Do you want to join us?”
So, no Bernard. More fool him. It’s his loss. “Okay,” she called. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Hurry up, then. I’ll pour the drinks. What do you want?”
She came out of the bathroom and leaned over the banisters. “Er, white wine, if there is any. Do you think you could ask Dorothy to come up and see me before we start?”
“Sure. Do you want me to come, too?”
“No, Mike. What I have to say to her is personal – to her alone.”
“Okay, as you like.”
Nova went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. She could hear voices downstairs quite clearly, the doctor’s bluff tones among them. She smiled as she thought of him. Handsome devil. Maybe she should have gone for him rather than Bernard. He seemed more normal, anyhow. Red blood in his veins, at least which, she reckoned, was more than could be said for the vicar. She had seen the way Robbie had looked at her at the last séance. Yes, he was definitely interested in her. She sighed. Oh God, she thought, he must be pushing fifty. Still, maybe she just preferred older men. She wasn’t sure where that left Mike in her affections, though. She thought the world of him, of course she did, but did she really love him?
Her thoughts were interrupted as Dorothy came into the room with a concerned look on her face.
“Mike said you wanted to see me alone, Nova. Is everything all right?”
“Yes and no,” said Nova, inviting Dorothy to sit beside her on the bed. “I wanted to tell you about the experience I’ve had since being back here. In this very room.”
“Experience?” Dorothy was very interested. “I presume you mean a psychic one?”
“Yes. That cockney voice that you said comes out of me – well, I’ve heard it for myself. It came from just over by the curtains.” She pointed to the window.
“So, she’s not possessing you anymore? Not inside you?”
“No, thank goodness. She hasn’t been able to get her hooks into me anymore, but she still managed to make a nuisance of herself.”
“Poor soul,” said Dorothy sadly. “That creature is very unhappy, and I don’t seem to be able to help. Maybe
we’ll have better luck tonight.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Nova. “We must find out what keeps this spirit here. Something must have happened in this house – something terrible...”
Dorothy patted her hand gently. “I fear so. But let’s see what another séance can do.” She got up from the bed, preparing to go downstairs.
“Sit down, Dorothy, please,” said Nova, ignoring her last remarks. “There’s something else I need to say to you – and it’s why I didn’t want Mike here when I said it.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about me and – and Bernie,” she said.
It was out in the open, the subject neither woman had discussed, or even acknowledged to each other, all the time they were both staying at the vicarage. Dorothy looked uneasy but seemed prepared to discuss the situation now that Nova had brought it up.
“We were treading on egg shells, weren’t we?” smiled Nova. “All the time, making out it wasn’t happening.”
“Just what exactly is it you want to say, Nova?”
The younger woman was a little nervous now. “I just wanted to say that you’ve nothing to fear from me. Not anymore.”
“I don’t know what you mean, dear.” Dorothy’s look was inscrutable.
“I just thought you should know that Bernie has no interest in me. He’s made that perfectly clear.” She blushed as she thought of how Bernard had rejected her that night. She wasn’t going to tell her that, though. She still had a vestige of pride left. Dorothy waited quietly for Nova to continue.
“I – I thought I was in love with him,” she said, choosing her words carefully. Was that true? Had it ever been true? “I – I did my best to get him to fall in love with me – I expect you know that, don’t you?”
“It’s none of my business, Nova. I had no right to interfere ...”
“You had every right, Dorothy,” said Nova almost crossly. “Stop trying to be so noble. You’re in love with Bernie yourself – no, don’t deny it, I know.”