“Whatever happened to you Regina, it must have been… awful.” Caitlin tried to release Matthew, but he insisted on clinging to her.
Regina drifted across the room. “I won’t do that again. I promise. It’s just that…”
“What?” the boy squeaked.
“Sometimes I see images of this place, yet it was different. These emotions: rage, hurt, betrayal. They take over. But yet when I look at you, Matthew, all I feel is love.”
“My da says that ghosts often form a connection from something in their past to what is here in the present.” Caitlin pushed Matthew away from her so she could look him in the face. “When did you first see Regina?”
“I fell and hurt my arm. It hurt so I cried. Miss Simpson told me I was being a baby and wouldn’t let Sally come sit with me.” Matthew scowled.
“That be it, then. You must have had a boy in your previous life and Matthew’s cries drew you out.” Caitlin nodded rather satisfied with herself. “It all makes sense.”
“Will you read now?” Matthew sniffed as though he might cry if she failed to perform this small task.
“Aye.” Caitlin shook her head in defeat as she took the book from him. She opened it and began to read. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Regina move over and stand behind Matthew; her gaze never strayed far from the boy. Caitlin felt a twinge of jealousy. Never in life did she recall her own mother looking at her in such a way. Maybe as a babe, but how would she remember that? It made her sad, but there was such happiness in Regina’s face, she could not stay that way long.
And then there was Matthew. He was so willing to accept Regina. There was no doubt the child had a joyful heart with no one to share it with. His parents were never here, so naturally he attached himself to someone who loved and cared for him. Caitlin thought he yearned for a mother, any mother, who loved and adored him—even if she was a ghost.
SEVERAL DAYS LATER, DAWN HAD just broken when Caitlin walked into Andrew’s workshop to see him packing his camera and a stack of photographic plates as quickly as possible without breaking them.
“Da! You’re back!”
“Not for long, Sweet Pea. You can talk whilst I pack, as Mr. Hunter is not one to be kept waiting,” Andrew replied as he wrapped a glass plate in between two layers of cotton cloth.
“Well, there be this ghost at the Kage’s and—”
“Caitlin!” Erin yelled at her. “Get some apples from the bin for your da.”
“In a minute, ma,” Caitlin yelled back. “Da, this ghost be not like any others you told me about.”
“What did I tell ye about dealing with ghosts?” Andrew stopped his packing and stared at her.
“Not to talk to any but Duncan.” Caitlin looked at the ground and shuffled her feet. “But da, what if they can talk to us? Really talk.”
“Duncan talks to us after a fashion, luv.”
“Not like her. I can see her. Like she was standing right here.”
“Caitlin!” her mother yelled again from the kitchen. “Say your good-byes and let your da go. And get those apples!”
Caitlin could see the anger simmering deep within him rise to a slow boil. He took her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “I don’t quite understand what you be sayin’ but you must stop talking to this ghost, or whatever it is, right now. Now what have I always said?”
“Don’t make friends with any ghosts except Duncan.”
“Why?”
“We know he’ll do me no harm,” Caitlin recited by heart.
“And…?”
“Ghosts are like the people they once were, only more so. Some seek to hurt while others seek solace. But even those who were once kind can hurt without meaning to.”
“Good girl.” Andrew’s ire receded as he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead then he picked up the pack and hefted it over his shoulder. “Promise me you won’t be involving yourself with anymore ghosts. At least not without me around.”
“I promise,” Caitlin replied, keeping her head down.
“Now go do as your ma says before we both pay the price. Go.” He shooed her away. “I’ll be needing those apples.”
“Aye, da. How long will you be gone?”
“A few weeks.”
Erin walked in carrying another duffle bursting with food. Several apples peeked out of the top. “As usual I had to get them myself.” She handed the pack to Andrew.
“Sorry, ma.”
“Gah. Useless girl.” Erin turned on her heel, never saying good-bye. “Either get to school or get to work.”
Andrew kissed her on the forehead again, then hurried out.
“I’ll clean up in here before I go, ma!” Caitlin called out to her mother.
Erin ignored her as she marched into the small bedroom she and Andrew shared and pulled the sheets off the bed.
Caitlin knew her mother had dismissed her and closed the door to the workshop. She turned up the lamp to illuminate the room just enough to not fall over any of her father’s equipment. The light from the lamp flickered on the walls as if a tiny fairy could not decide where to land. She opened her mouth to call for Duncan, then changed her mind. She’d had enough of ghosts for a while.
“I BE AWFULLY SORRY, MATTHEW, but I can’t be talking to Regina anymore. I promised me da.”
Matthew burst into tears and wailed as if the world were ending. “I don’t understand. You said you spoke to ghosts all the time. Why can’t you talk to Regina?”
Regina tried to hug the distraught boy, but her arms swept through him which caused him to cry more. Her only recourse was to hover over him.
“It be hard to explain. Da has known Duncan since before I was born. He trusts him.”
“But you and Regina are my only friends!” Matthew cried. “Who will read to us?”
“Caitlin, I mean you and the boy no harm. You must know that,” Regina pleaded with her. “And besides… other than Matthew, you are my only friend. Please, for both our sakes, don’t turn your back on us. I think it would leave me a little undone.”
Regina drifted away and faded a bit.
“Regina!” Matthew cried out. “Caitlin, look what you’ve done. She’s going away. Don’t let her!”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” Caitlin turned to leave, but Matthew blocked her path.
“If you won’t talk to Regina anymore, then I’ll tell Mrs. Trask that you were mean to me.” Matthew jutted his chin out like the petulant child he was.
“Matthew!” Regina scolded him as her image flickered. “That’s not true and you know it. Caitlin will lose her position here and may not find work anywhere else.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want either of you to go. So Caitlin has to stay,” he ordered.
“You’re becoming quite the Middle District man, aren’t you?” Regina glowered at him. “Shame on you for threatening Caitlin.”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “But I mean it. I’ll tell Mrs. Trask.”
Backed into a corner, Caitlin did what every South Side girl did in this situation. “I’ll stay, young master, but it won’t be as it was before.”
“I don’t see why not.” Matthew jumped up and down in joy. “It will always be like this. Forever”
Every afternoon for two weeks, Monday through Saturday, Caitlin continued to spend one hour reading to Matthew and Regina. Jeanette was becoming jealous seeing Caitlin being paid for sitting around while she ended up cleaning an entire room by herself. When Matthew overheard Jeanette grousing one day, he sneaked her pastries from the kitchen to take home. She still groused, but always with a hint of a smile after that.
One afternoon, Caitlin and Jeanette entered the kitchen through the alley to find the kitchen staff boiling water, making soup and heating towels. The head cook, a tall, lean woman with a slight hump in her back, ordered the staff around with military precision. When she spotted the girls, she jerked her head toward the door to the hallway. “Mrs. Trask and Miss Simpson be looking for you. Don’t
keep them waiting.”
Maids ran up the stairs muffling the rumbling of the dumbwaiter as the girls walked towards Mrs. Trask’s office. Caitlin saw the door was ajar. Not knowing what to expect, she hesitated.
“Are you going to knock? I certainly don’t want to be the one interrupting her ladyship.” Jeanette crossed her arms and sat back on her heels.
Caitlin gave her an annoyed look, then knocked on the wooden door.
“Come in or not.” Mrs. Trask’s firm voice gave them pause. “But do not waste my time.”
The girls entered to see an office that was plain but well maintained. With an exterior brick wall, the only accents were a woolen throw rug on the stained oak floor and closed blue serge curtains with an embroidered leaf pattern around the edges. The only light came from two electric lamps: one on Mrs. Trask’s desk and another on the ceiling.
Miss Simpson slumped in a chair weeping. A delicate porcelain tea cup contained a murky brown substance that Caitlin thought could be cold tea with milk sat on the end table next to her. Mrs. Trask leaned her elbows on a walnut desk that had several small stacks of boxes on one side, each labeled with the names of the rooms in the house.
“It’s about time,” Mrs. Trask growled. “Matthew is ill and has been asking for you, Caitlin.”
Miss Simpson looked up through teary eyes that reflected pure hatred. “Why he would want the likes of you, I do not understand.”
“Enough, Miss Simpson,” Mrs. Trask reprimanded. “All that matters is that the boy recovers.”
“What be wrong with him?” Caitlin asked.
“The doctor says it’s a kind of melancholia.” Mrs. Trask stared at nothing for a moment. “How could a child be so sad when he has everything?”
“But he doesn’t,” Caitlin blurted out.
“What do you mean?” Miss Simpson jerked up, knocking over her tea cup. It smashed on the floor, sending shards everywhere. “How dare you! Look what you’ve done!”
“Sit down, Miss Simpson,” Mrs. Trask ordered.
The nanny sat down with a thump.
“What do you mean, girl?” This time Mrs. Trask’s eyes bored into her.
“She didn’t mean anything, ma’am.” Jeanette nudged Caitlin with her elbow. “Did you?”
“Beggin’ your pardon, Mrs. Trask, but the young master misses his mother,” Caitlin said, trying to make her words sound like an apology.
Mrs. Trask sucked in her breath and trembled for a moment, then recovered. “That’s nonsense. His mother has him kiss her goodnight every evening they are in town.”
Stunned at her response, Caitlin stammered, “May I see the young master?”
The older woman stared at her unblinking then nodded. “Only for a few minutes. I don’t want anything else to upset him.”
“Aye.” Caitlin gave her a quick curtsy then, rushed out the door. Jeanette followed.
“Are you daft sayin’ those things? Do you want to get us both dismissed?”
“Mrs. Trask will not be dismissing anyone today. She cares for the boy in her own way and doesn’t want to see any harm come to him.” Caitlin took the stairs up two at a time while Jeanette stayed behind.
“She sure has a peculiar way of showing it,” Jeanette yelled up at her.
When Caitlin made it to the second floor, she headed straight towards Matthew’s room, but a maid gestured her to the far end of the hall. Puzzled, Caitlin followed her and soon discovered Matthew had been moved to another room.
As soon as she entered Matthew’s new room, she saw drawn curtains and noticed a stale pungent odor. Unlike the other bedroom, the velvet curtains here were a middling brown, and the wool rugs had tiny tears in them. It was if the boy had lost his social standing overnight.
Matthew lay in his bed weeping and thrashing as several maids tried to comfort him but the boy ignored them.
“What is he doing in here?” Caitlin asked one of the maids.
“I don’t know, Miss.” The girl shrugged. “Mrs. Trask gave the order to move him last night.”
“Caitlin!” Matthew cried out.
She ran over to him, climbed up on the bed and took his hand. “Shush, Matthew. No need to be yelling.” Caitlin gave him a soft smile. “What be wrong with you? Have you got a fever?” She put her palm on his forehead.
“He didn’t have one earlier.” One of the maids stood there wringing her hands.
“He does now. Bring me cool wet cloths,” Caitlin ordered.
The maids ran out to do her biding looking torn between fear of being dismissed and fear of catching whatever might ail the boy.
“Caitlin,” Matthew croaked. “She’s gone.”
“Who be gone?”
“Regina. She’s gone. I can’t see her anymore.”
Caitlin lowered her voice. “Can you hear her?”
Matthew wiped the tears from his cheeks. “It’s like she’s calling for me from far away, but I can’t make out what she’s saying.”
She smiled and patted his hand. “Ghosts can be a bit queer, Matthew. We don’t always know what they want. But if she be here, it be odd that she couldn’t just come to this room unless….”
“Can you go back to my room and check?” he asked. “They won’t let me go back in.”
“Why not?”
“I woke up last night, and Mrs. Trask was in my room. She was crying. It scared me.” Matthew sat up and hugged her. “Why did they make me move?”
Caitlin hugged him back. “I don’t be knowing, but you need to rest.”
She eased him back on to his pillow and stroked his forehead as if she were his mother. His face relaxed under her touch, and he closed his eyes. Caitlin wondered why separating him from Regina caused him such physical distress. She adored Duncan, and if he left, she would miss him, but not be sick over it.
The boy opened his eyes and gave her a small smile until, in a huff, he threw the covers over his head and hid. Caitlin turned around to see what might have caused this. It was Mrs. Trask.
“How is he?” the older woman asked, her voice cracking.
“Can he go back to his old room? I think this one scares him.”
“Nonsense. He stays here. The other room had a draft. I do not want him to catch a chill.”
Caitlin stood up to face her. “But he be sick here, Mrs. Trask. A fever’s got a hold of him.”
Mrs. Trask looked alarmed, then recovered her composure. “He’ll be fine. I’ll call for the doctor to take a look at him again.” The older woman glanced over Caitlin’s shoulder to see Matthew still hiding under the bedding. “Do what you can for him.”
The doctor arrived soon after. Caitlin watched as he poked and prodded Matthew who grimaced, whined, then fell into fits of crying and wailing. The poor man did not know what to do with a hysterical child, but tried to be as kind and gentle as possible. After the examination, Caitlin overheard him tell Mrs. Trask that Matthew had a slight fever, but the problem appeared to be more with his mind. Mrs. Trask took exception to that and ordered the doctor out of the house. As a professional, he ignored her complaints and told her to get the boy fresh air, exercise, and good, wholesome food. Mrs. Trask bristled at his obvious recommendations, then had one of the under-butlers escort him out. Caitlin suspected they would not be seeing that doctor in the house again.
“Caitlin!” Mrs. Trask barked at her.
“Ma’am?”
“I will need you to spend the night with the boy since the maids are worthless and he won’t let Miss Simpson near him,” the older woman announced. “See to it. You’ll be paid accordingly.” Mrs. Trask marched out without waiting for her to respond.
Caitlin sagged against the bed post. “But I’ll be missing school in the morning.”
Matthew peeked over his bedsheet. “You can bring your books here. I don’t mind.”
“You, young sir, must get well. Then I be betting they let you back into your old room.” Caitlin nudged him. “You must show them how strong you are.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll try. But I miss Regina.”
“Ghosts have strange ways. I’m thinkin’ it might be time for her to move on.”
“She’d never leave without saying good-bye,” Matthew insisted.
Caitlin tucked the covers around him. “We don’t be knowing such things. Best to let it go.” She kissed his forehead. “You be getting some rest now. I need to see to your dinner and let ma know that I won’t be coming home tonight.”
“Okay. Don’t be long.”
Caitlin lingered at the doorway and watched as Matthew settled into bed. She knew he was right—Regina would never leave him without saying good-bye.
JEANETTE OFFERED TO STAY OVERNIGHT with Caitlin, but Mrs. Trask refused to pay for her time. Annoyed at what she perceived as Caitlin’s good luck in earning more money without doing much of anything, Jeanette walked out in a huff before Caitlin could tell her what was going on. However, she made a promise to herself to make it up to her friend.
The maids brought in a cot for her to sleep on next to Matthew’s bed. He grinned and looked much happier than he had all day, but his melancholy still hung over him like a rain cloud waiting to burst. She read to him until he fell asleep, then crept out to use the water closet.
On her way back she decided to peek into Matthew’s old room just to see if she could call Regina. Caitlin did not know what to expect, but if the ghost was still there the knowledge would give comfort to the boy. She touched the knob to open it and found it was locked. Caitlin felt relief for now she could keep her promise to her father. She’d begun to walk away when the sound of weeping caught her attention. Caitlin put her ear against the door and tapped her fingers against it, trying not to be too loud.
“Regina?” she whispered. “Is that you?”
The weeping stopped.
Caitlin backed away from the door and stared at it, half expecting it to open, but it did not budge. After a minute, she walked back to Matthew’s room and lay down in the cot. She fell asleep pondering if she should tell Matthew about what she’d heard.
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