Aunt Toffy and the Ghost

by Linda Lea Castle

  “Ma’m, look.” He held out a woven basket of middling size covered with a scarf.

  Adorna pulled away the scarf and found herself looking at a heap of coins. “Oh dear me! I think we are rich.”

  “Mmm and that is just the beginning. Meridius is beginning to enjoy this.” Toffy yawned widely. “Oh and he says you need to put that somewhere safe—not here in the house. Not in the house tonight. He says you need to get it to the bank today—Mr. Scrum’s bank he says—now.”

  Adorna started to protest that they had never been molested by burglars, but she snapped her mouth shut. After all, Meridius had been consistently correct so far. She was ready to do as he bid without question.

  ****

  Within the hour Adorna, Crosbie, and Toffy walked into the Bank of Scotland. They had hired a carriage, feeling rich as Croesus. A harried clerk approached them after a few minutes of standing on the polished stone floor. Everyone had bustled by them, intent on some destination which did not include stopping to greet them.

  “Good day, we would like to speak with Mr. Scrum,” Adorna said.

  “I’m sorry to tell you he is engaged.” The young clerk’s eyes darted around the building, and Adorna noticed he was just like the entire staff. “We have a crisis.”

  “Is there something amiss?” she asked. Crosbie shifted his weight, and the sound of coins clinking inside the basket caught the man’s attention.

  “Uh—we have misplaced something.” The clerk said, clearly curious about the basket Crosbie was carrying.

  “Please, tell Mr. Scrum we are here.” Toffy used her best old-woman-who-will-brook no refusal voice.

  The young clerk hesitated for only a moment before he darted away on legs as slim as a late summer grasshopper.

  Within a few moments Mr. Scrum appeared. His hair stood out at odd angles around his head as if he had been tearing at it.

  “Ah, my friends, it is good to see you. I wish I could offer you some courteous hospitality, but we have a bit of a disaster.”

  “Is there aught we can do?” Toffy asked.

  “I’m afraid there is nothing anyone can do, unless the newspaper accounts are true. If you have the ability to speak to the other side, and reach the beyond then—ask them where the key is?”

  “The key to what?” Toffy focused a sharp birdlike gaze on him.

  “A key of great import. One of our most esteemed depositors has just returned from abroad. He entrusted to us a most valuable strong box, and inside are even more valuable documents. They key has gone missing. The clerk that had it did not leave the building, so we know it must be here in the bank, but all our efforts at location have failed. If we do not find the key, our reputation will be ruined. If our client must force the lock to get at his documents, nobody will entrust their valuables to us again. But I am rattling on—what has brought you here?” Mr. Scrum said all this in one breath while he paced in front of them.

  “This.” Crosbie flipped back the shawl covering the basket to reveal the money.

  Mr. Scrum gasped. “Amazing.”

  “We wish to entrust this new found wealth to your bank,” Adorna said.

  “In light of what I have just told you, that is a leap of faith.”

  “Nonsense. You are the most trustworthy man I know,” Adorna scoffed.

  “You are kind to say so. Right this way. Let’s get you attended to—our misfortune should not cause you delay. We are glad of your confidence.” He took them to a private cubicle and the task of getting the money safely in the bank’s control began. Toffy sat herself outside the small room and watched as the staff looked in every corner, under each desk, even in the soil of the potted plants.

  “Well, Meridius—do you think you can help our friend, Mr. Scrum?” A slow grin spread across her face. “I see. Very well, then, as you wish.”

  Mr. Scrum walked down the polished stone hallway mopping sweat from his brow. Toffy could see he was upset, pale, and a little shaky. She motioned to him, and he came near.

  “Mr. Scrum, you should look for the key in the coal scuttle in the large room.”

  “How do you know about the meeting room?”

  “I most certainly know nothing of your rooms, but Meridius says the key will be found with the black stone that burns, so I think he must mean coal, and he said it was in your largest room. If there is a hearth with coal, then there must surely be a coal scuttle.”

  Mr. Scrum hesitated for only a moment. Then he turned and trotted back down the hall. He returned a few moments later, grimy, smiling, his neck scarf barely tied, covered with coal dust, holding the key aloft.

  “We are saved. Thanks to Mrs. Miggins and her Aunt Toffy, and the ghost Meridius, we are saved!” He did a happy little jig, swinging Toffy around.

  ****

  The carriage ride home was a happy affair. Adorna saw Crosbie fighting off grin after grin—he was such a stoic man. Toffy was clearly pleased with herself, and with Meridius.

  “You look like a cat in cream, Aunt.”

  Crosbie grinned but tactfully turned toward the window without comment.

  “Meridius said he had missed Mr. Scrum. That was why he wanted you to put the money in the bank. You know, it is quite amazing how much he is learning about the way of things.” Toffy settled back against the squabs with a contented sigh.

  Adorna didn’t know quite what to say. The ghost—Meridius—had an affection for Mr. Scrum? So when a spirit passed on did it retain those human foibles of likes and dislikes? What other things did one take, like baggage with them—did they long to finish things undone? And the ghost had learned the intricacies of the Scottish banking system? What else would he get up to now?

  “He says he likes seeing people happy. He would like to do more of it,” Toffy said before she yawned.

  “Perhaps you should hang out a shingle, ma’m,” Crosbie said with a wink. But when Adorna looked back at Toffy she was sitting upright, straight as a poker, her eyes bright.

  “He is correct. What a wonderful suggestion, Crosbie. We shall go into business. Mrs. Miggins Spiritual Questions Handled—Discreet. Yes, that is what the shingle should say.” Toffy leaned back and closed her eyes. “I think you should get started at once, dear.”

  Adorna realized she had become a believer in all things ghost-like, without explanation or reservation when she visited the cooperage and boldly inquired, “Can you make a shingle suitable to hang over a door?”

  The gray-haired proprietor didn’t seem to think her request was odd. “Aye, we can fashion a handsome shingle with a bit of scroll work and the like. What should it say?”

  She stood up straight and looked him straight in the eye. “Mrs. Miggins Spiritual Questions Handled—Discreet.”

  “So yer are Mrs. Miggins? It is a pleasure to meet yer.” He thrust out a clean, gnarly hand and shook hers vigorously.

  “How do you know me?”

  “I expect all of the city knows ye. The newspaper—yer have been a great comfort to my missus. Lost our son, but now she is certain the little lift of the curtain or the smell of the sea in the parlor is him. Aye, a bit of peace you have brought to her heart because of yer ghost. I canna thank ye enough. ’Tis good to see a smile on her face again.”

  She smiled and nodded. In her head she was thanking Meridius Wiggus. The strange Roman ghost was working miracles in Edinburgh.

  So by the time Adorna left his shop, she too felt a bit of peace. The weekly teas had taken away the specter of starvation, and Toffy’s mad plan of business seemed to insure their further solvency. Her life was tranquil and yet there was a niggling emptiness at the edge of her mind.

  She realized with a start that she missed Rawly—Mr. Scrum and Mrs. Wise as well—but Rawly was a different kind of absence. She wondered what he was doing and why she had not read of a posting of the banns. She wondered when his wedding would take place, and if she and Toffy would be invited to attend. They could afford it now. They could each visit the dressmaker and get a new fro
ck.

  If they were invited.

  She stopped by Greyfriars and pulled an errant weed from Mr. Miggin’s grave before she left a fresh spray of flowers that she had purchased on the way from a tiny flower girl. The day was fine and mild, and she enjoyed the slow walk back to her home.

  She was met at the door by Crosbie who was smiling broadly. “We have a visitor, ma’m.”

  She half expected another person wanting Meridius’ help but was happy to see Mr. Scrum standing in the parlor. He was not the same man she had seen at the bank. Now he was smiling, happy and greeted her warmly. The worry that had creased his brow was gone. He was more his old self.

  “Mrs. Miggins, how nice to see you. I cannot tell you how happy I was to see you and Miss Toffy at the bank and to see you have had a change of fortune. I hope your new found wealth does not mean you will turn me out.”

  “Turn you out? Have you lost your position at the bank?” She remembered how boldly he announced the ghost had found the key. Remembering his strict Presbyterian directors, she worried for him.

  He grinned and rocked back on his heels. “Nay, quite the opposite. The directors were so relieved when the key was found, and when they heard exactly how that event came to the pass, they have come over to a new line of thinking. They are pleased to have a bank manager who is personally connected to the celebrated Mrs. Miggins—you know you are quite famous now, my dear. I am enjoying an unprecedented amount of acceptance among the directors.”

  “Meridius will be pleased to know you are happy. He misses you.” Toffy looked up from the lace she was tatting in the chair by the sunny window.

  “I miss this house and all of you. To come to the point, that is why I am here. Would it be possible to resume lodging here?”

  “Of course! We would be so pleased to have you back.” Adorna was truly happy at the prospect. Her house seemed so empty without the old lodgers—if only Mrs. Wise could return as well.

  Mr. Scrum blushed slightly. “There is one small change.”

  “What could that be?” Adorna did not comment on his sudden unease.

  “Mrs. Wise—and I will only require one room for the two of us.” His blush deepened.

  “You mean to say—?” Adorna started to say more but Toffy interrupted.

  “Yes, we have married. At our age, I know it must seem a bit well—unconventional—but we have. And we would like to reside here with you.” His heavy facial hair quivered as he set his jaw.

  “About time. Anybody with eyes could see she doted on you. Men don’t get any quicker with age, but at last you made a move. Good on you,” Toffy said with a smile.

  “Thank you. I’m so happy. It will be like old times. We will return tomorrow. It will be good to be home.”

  ****

  “Cook is making a special treat for the return of Mr. Scrum and Mrs. Wise—I mean Mr. and Mrs. Scrum.” Crosbie informed Adorna the next morning after they had broken their fast.

  “Please ask her to make plenty of bannocks. And please go to the market and get another bottle of wine.” She smiled to herself thinking how natural it seemed now to want to have Meridius included in their celebration meal. “Aunt, do you think you might ask Meridius to tell us a bit more about himself—I mean his life—when he had an actual life?”

  “I will ask him. Truth to tell, dear, he has been quite vague about his past. I know he lived abroad, but Meridius has been quite reluctant to speak about himself in any detail. Lately though, and I think it because he has had the pleasure of helping other people, he has seemed—well different.”

  “In what way?”

  “I guess I would have to say he has been a touch nostalgic. He has missed all the people about the house. He would like very much to see the household restored. It appears to be a sticking point with him. He rather liked the house and its inhabitants they way it was.”

  “Well, we have our newlyweds, and frankly, with Basil getting his heart’s desire, and Rawly doing his duty and marrying, I think our house is as restored as it is likely to get. I can’t see Rawly bringing his bride back the way Mr. Scrum did.”

  ****

  That evening the scheduled tea was made all the more festive because of Mr. and Mrs. Scrum being able to attend. Mrs. Malone arrived with half a dozen of her society members. They were gracious and eager, and Toffy soon had them perched on the edge of their seats.

  Mr. and Mrs. Scrum sat side by side, holding hands, listening intently to all the conversations.

  “Mrs. Miggins, could you and Aunt Toffy—would it be possible to hear more about the ghost?” Mrs. Malone whispered her request.

  It struck Adorna as amusing that people often kept their voices low, as if perhaps Meridius would not hear them. But Adorna had decided there was little that Meridius did not hear or see.

  “Aunt, do you suppose…?” Adorna added her request.

  “Meridius? You have heard the question. Would you tell us of your time on the earthly plane?” Toffy always changed the tone of her voice when she spoke to Meridius in front of Mrs. Malone or her associates—Adorna suspected it was Toffy’s love of the dramatic. It was charming and eccentric and suited her. In many ways the emergence of Meridius had given Toffy a new lease of life. She had a sparkle in her eye and a spring to her step when people came to tea.

  “Very well Meridius, I will tell them.”

  There were intakes of breath and murmurs moved throughout the room.

  “Meridius says he would be honored to reveal some of his past.”

  The weather had turned gray and wet. A sudden chill entered the house, and Adorna could not help but think how much the gloom added to their tea. It was slightly spooky to have the wind driving the rain against the windows.

  Crosbie had everything ready for this eventuality. They gathered around a low fire. He had trimmed the wicks and lit one small branch of candles. The glow of bluff good humor surrounded them all in spite of the weather outside.

  Toffy cleared her throat, tilted her head as if she were listening to some far away music, then she nodded and began to speak…

  Long ago there lived a man in a far away land. He was a man of letters and very fond of the fruit he grew upon his patch. He grew fat juicy grapes, you see, on gnarled ancient vines, and when they were pressed he had wine. Great amphora of wine were stacked in his cellar. Proud as a white-washed pig, he was.

  He liked to spend his time tending his grapes and writing down the news of the day. He had a small reputation among his neighbors as being a man who kept the events of the land on scrolls. He did this happily until there was a change in leadership in his land. And as was his habit, he made sure to record those facts as they happened. Some of those facts did not paint the new leadership in a favorable light. Then one day men came and took away his scribblings of the facts. It was not very long until he also was taken away. You see, then as now, powerful people do not want the truth of their actions to be written down and seen by all. Fact has so little to do with the building of a bold legend. So the happy man who liked nothing more than wine and words was sent away, across the sea with an army. In a ship on rough seas he traveled. He found himself in a strange, cold land inhabited by fierce proud men who wanted naught more than to kill him. Thousands of his countrymen were there—warriors—armored in the fashion of their kind. They marched and built roads and fortifications and then marched again. At the head of this vast host they carried an eagle standard.

  “What happened to Meridius?” Adorna asked, leaning forward slightly on her seat.

  Toffy smiled. “I don’t know. You see he hasn’t told me the end of his story yet.”

  Chapter Nine

  Dinner that night was a feast. Roasted goose, mashed turnips, fresh scones, and of course, bannocks.

  Adorna feared she would have to let out her corset if they ate in this fashion regularly. But for the first time in recent memory, she did not have to worry for funds.

  It was wonderful. But the thrifty Scotswoman in her was
determined not to overspend. If she watched her pennies, the pounds would watch themselves.

  She looked down her table at the assembled. Toffy was pink of cheek. Mr. and Mrs. Scrum were romantic and yet very formal with each other.

  It made Adorna long for domesticity in a way she never had. Mr. Miggins had been ill so she never had the opportunity to explore romantic love. There had been duty and commitment but as she watched the newlyweds she realized with a jolt that she had never known love.

  It made her a little sad.

  “This is almost perfect,” Toffy said suddenly.

  “Almost? What do you desire that we do not have?” Adorna asked, hoping she could provide it.

  “I wish Rawly was here.”

  “Do you miss him so much?” Mrs. Scrum asked.

  “I do, but more than that I am annoyed that we never found out what he did each day. The state he returned in—covered in muck and mud—I confess I have spent a good deal of time speculating on his activities. It is a mystery that I have not yet solved. Very annoying at my stage of life.”

  Mr. Scrum laughed heartily. “I must confess I feel the same. I have speculated on his activities, but I have not solved the puzzle!”

  “I have thought he must be engaged with a foreign power and is undermining the foundations of the castle!” Toffy giggled taking a bite of cream slathered scone.

  “I thought perhaps he was tunneling into my bank.” Mr. Scrum chortled.

  “No—no—” Mrs. Scrum snickered. “I believe he goes to live with the wild badgers each day, digging and rooting on Ard Na Said.”

  “Perhaps he is engaged in digging ditches in the New Town,” Adorna offered, joining the silly speculations.

  “Toffy, why have you not simply asked Meridius to find out what Rawly does?” Mr. Scrum inquired after a long drink of his port. “He seems to know everything.”

  “Oh, I have asked Meridius to find what Rawly is doing.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “It is a source of some agitation for Meridius. When it comes to Rawly there is some sort of block—some barrier. Meridius knows that Rawly is searching for something, but it is murky and he cannot see clearly. He has tried to communicate with Rawly like he does with me but he cannot.” She sighed. “It makes him very sad.”