A Haunting at Hensley Hall (A Ravynne Sisters Paranormal Mystery)

by Merabeth James

  He was feeling way too expansive and had to be stopped. “Okay…okay! We get the picture,” Charlie said, afraid Meg would succumb to tears at any moment. What they both needed was a good dose of sunlight and blue sky. “Look around to your heart’s content. We’ll be outside,” she said, wrapping her arm around Meg’s shoulder and leading her out.

  Sitting on the front steps, their thoughts ran along the same line. Their worst suspicions had just been confirmed. The Hensleys had died an ugly death…their restless spirits were quite probably still lingering about….and it made good sense to chuck their losses and get out while they could. Though how they would unload the house again was a mystery, even if they could bring themselves to take advantage of some poor trusting soul. Probably one with plans for a B&B and all the nonsense they had been dreaming about!

  Meg was the first to speak, “I know we both want to run for the hills, but it’s not really an option, is it? We’re meant to be here, Charlie. We felt like that, you felt like that, right from the very beginning and nothing’s really changed. I mean, we kind of suspected the Hensleys had not died exactly as we were led to believe, but we’ve made a commitment. And, you have to admit, the house has felt much friendlier today!”

  Charlie hugged her knees and sighed. ‘Bad luck’ and ‘haunted’ weren’t adjectives conducive to making their dreams come true, but the house was theirs now and she had believed, did believe, they were meant to be here. “Just be careful, Meg. You are like an empath. You feel way too much. This place could hurt you if you get to close to the pain I know you felt in there.”

  Meg yanked her ponytail really hard. "You, on the other hand, think too much. I'm fine. How about we go back inside and explore our new home top to bottom?"

  And that's what they did. They started by climbing up two flights of stairs, pausing at the landings to look out at the grounds below. “Lots of work, but it will be beautiful. See that climbing rose? And look at that pond, or tiny little lake, under the trees. Won’t that be fun?” Meg exclaimed.

  But Charlie was already seeing dollar signs with every step. “More fun than we can afford just now,” she muttered.

  At the end of the long corridor that bisected the third floor, they found the narrow, steep attic stairs and climbed to what must have once been the servants’ quarters. Light filtered through the dormer windows that marched across both sides of the cavernous space. Judging from the narrow iron cots stacked against the wall, it had been the drafty, cold home of the ‘lesser’ staff…the housemaids. They were sure the butler, housekeeper and cook had fared much better.

  Crossing the dust coated floor, that echoed hollowly with each step, they opened the doors to storage rooms filled to the rafters with cast off pieces of the Hensleys’ lives…heavy antique Victorian furniture, boxes, steamer trunks, lamps with missing shades and some with shades that ought to be missing. The taste and style of another era. It was a treasure trove to explore at another time.

  They retraced their steps to the third floor and began opening the doors on both sides of the hall. The first turned out to be a schoolroom. The breeze through a broken window flapped the world map that hung above the blackboard and set a rocking horse, its mane and tail long missing, bobbing back and forth, as though it still carried a little rider. Ink stained desks took up the center of the large room. A chair lay on its side. Bookcases covered most of two walls. Tthough covered with dust, they still offered a spot of color against the grayness of the room.

  Meg shivered. “It’s not a happy place. I can feel it, ” she told Charlie, not mentioning what she heard. The slam of a rod or cane on flesh…the whimper of a child.

  Closing the door behind them, they continued down the hall, looking in the rooms they passed. All were simply decorated without the little things one would associate with children, though one small bed had a tattered flop-eared rabbit lying on the dusty pillow. The remaining rooms on that end of the hall had obviously housed the nanny, nurse and tutor. The far end of the hall was divided into apartments for the housekeeper, and butler. They were furnished with solid, serviceable furniture and as colorless as the rest of the rooms on this floor.

  They descended to the second floor, which was more lavish, or had been at one time, but now the hall runner was worn thin and the rich walnut paneling dingy with grime and dust. Overhead, they could hear footsteps moving about. “Just Watts,” Charlie told Meg who nodded in reply, mostly because they both wanted to believe it.

  Opening the first door, they looked inside. The furniture was covered with time-yellowed sheets, the drapes pulled against the fading effects of the sun. When Meg yanked them back, she sent a swirl of dust motes dancing in the single shaft of sunlight that penetrated the ivy covering most of the window. The floorboards creaked, as Charlie crossed the room and opened a small door. It had been a dressing room at one time, but some affluent Hensley…1930s maybe?… had converted it to a small bath.

  Meg leaned under her arm and looked around. “Wow! Look at that beautiful claw foot tub! You do realize if this one has been converted, we might luck out and find whoever did this didn’t stop here. En-suite rooms will be a big bonus, though we’re going to have to add one of those shower ring thingies around the tub for those that don’t like to soak, but that won’t cost much, right?” Meg asked.

  Meg, thankfully, couldn’t hear what Charlie muttered under her breath, as she eyed the ruined floors and mildewed walls. It seemed her glass was always going to be ‘half empty’ to Meg’s ‘half full’. “I can picture it now, Meg, let’s go see what other ‘treasures’ we can uncover.” If Meg detected the sarcasm in her tone, she didn’t comment on it.

  The next rooms must have been the late Hensleys’ suite, they decided, when they opened the first door and looked inside. It appeared as though the late Mrs. Hensley had just stepped away. A ruby coverlet was pulled back and an old fashioned but expensive silk robe lay across the foot of the double bed. Toiletries covered the dresser and a book was turned upside down on the bedside table.

  The door to the adjoining room was locked and the sisters were forced to enter it from the hall. It was littered with dirty clothes…the bedding in the same state. An aura lingered there and it wasn’t just the smell! Whatever it was had Meg saying, “Let’s get out of here, Charlie. It’s starting to get strange in here.”

  Charlie knew what she meant. The atmosphere felt like a spring wound too tightly and about to let go at any minute.

  They didn’t beat a hasty retreat, but they didn’t waste any time either. They were both glad when the door clicked shut behind them. Continuing down the hall, they glanced briefly in room after another until they opened the second door from the last.

  The walls were covered with pink rose wallpaper. A tall canopied four-poster bed dominated the center of the room. It was covered in deep pink silk that had begun to crumble. A thick pink and white Aubusson carpet covered the wide plank floor. But what caught both their attentions was the portrait above the marble mantle. It was a beautifully executed portrait of a young girl…teens?…in a white organza dress with a blue satin sash. Her long hair was black with blue highlights, her eyes, a deep clear gray, had the far away look of a sleep walker. She was very beautiful and seemed so very sad.

  “This must be her room…the one that disappeared, though I don’t know why she has a picture of herself here. She kind of looks familiar. But look, Charlie, this room is perfect for you. There’s even a view of my ‘someday’ garden down there. And I’ll bet there’s a bathroom behind this door,” she told her, opening it to prove her point. “And look at this armoire…it still has all her clothes in it…nice ones, too. It looks like she just stepped away.”

  The room was pretty, beautiful even, but way too ‘girlie’ for Charlie’s taste. “You take it, Meg! It suits you perfectly. Let’s go next door and see what’s there.”

  Next door had clearly been a boy’s room…her twin? It was decorated in a dark slate blue…drapes, bedding, right down to the
walls. The armoire doors leaned open. Unlike Breanna’s, it was empty. In fact, the entire room had been stripped of anything personal except for two large glass cases filled with long dead butterflies. There must have been hundreds of them, each stuck on their pin and neatly labeled. “Ugh!” Meg exclaimed.

  “Those will have to go, but otherwise, this should do quite nicely. I’ll be close enough to hear your screams and, if I don’t miss my guess, that door leads to the tower just like the other one at the opposite end of the hall.”

  And it did. It was a small sitting room, or had been once. Now it was filled with the boxes that hadn’t made it to the attic. One window was broken…the one they had seen the crow fly into, when they first arrived. Bird droppings and feathers littered the floor that had warped from the onslaught of rain over how many years? More than enough to do a lot of damage.

  “This will be the perfect place to write. Something I have to get back to or I’ll have to return my advance, which is not a good thing for either of us. Let’s look around downstairs and then hunt up Mr. Watts, if he hasn’t run screaming into the woods yet,” Charlie told Meg.

  They found the door to the servants’ stairs just outside and followed it down to the kitchen. It looked and felt different today. It was the sun pouring in the window, and the absence of whatever had been there yesterday, that had completely changed the atmosphere. All in all, the house and its inhabitants seemed to be on their best behavior today and both sisters were grateful.

  Poking around the kitchen area, they found the scullery, the staff dining room, the pantries, and the cook’s small bed-sitting room. Then, one by one, they walked through each of the remaining rooms on the main floor. The rich paneling was scarred, the floors were stained and worn, the plaster crumbling from the damp. The list went on and on, but they marveled at the beautiful mouldings, the elaborate marble mantles, the ceiling rosettes and hanging chandeliers. Some of the heavy Victorian furniture they saw up in the attics would be beautiful down here. Hopefully, they would find enough pieces to furnish the place if they stretched it a bit thin. A few potted plants could fill in a lot of space!

  But the library wing was much more than they could have imagined! It was floor to ceiling bookcases filled with old, beautifully bound books that had both Meg and Charlie wondering why Mrs. Brown hadn’t absconded with the lot! A fireplace, bracketed by French doors that led into what might have passed for the Amazonian jungle, gaped blackly along one wall.

  “Guess I have all the gardening I need to keep me busy for the rest of my life!” Meg said with just a hint of desperation.

  Charlie smiled. “You can garden, while I write. Which reminds me. I need to finish that chapter I began yesterday and you need to take Freddie out for a walk. Let’s find Watts, shall we?’

  “You do know that this place is absolutely beautiful under all this” Meg said with a sigh.

  “All this grime, mold, dust, bird poop and falling down on our heads disrepair? Yes, it is. And someday, not soon and praying we don’t run completely out of money, this will be all we hoped for. I know it will,” Charlie finished for her.

  “And if we can just get the Hensleys…all of them…to cut us a little slack, it will happen. What are you going to call it, anyway?”

  “I assume you mean our B&B? We’ll need to give that some thought,” Charlie replied with a grin. “Needless to say, we won’t be sending out brochures any time soon!”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Watts inspection report wasn’t entirely bad. The copper plumbing, and wiring had been updated sometime in the seventies. The well and pump were in working order, but the drainfield was another matter, as was the roof. Water damage in the attics and walls would need to be addressed, but the basic structure was sound right down to the stone foundation and dirt floor cellars.

  The needed repairs were daunting. Ivy would need to be torn away and the brick walls and chimneys re-pointed, where the mortar had crumbled. Fireplaces, “if they wanted them to work”, needed stainless steel double walled flues inserted. And that was just the beginning of a very long list that didn’t even begin to include the grounds.

  Once they’d transferred their entire life savings to the local back, Meg and Charlie began the hunt for a ‘honest, reliable’ general contractor. After a number of interviews, they agreed on Moe Swenson. His references checked out…everyone thought he was ‘excellent’, ‘very professional’ and knows how to ‘work in budget’. The last bit was the deciding factor, though his appearance didn’t hurt. While accusing each other of being ‘shallow’, Meg and Charlie both couldn’t help but notice his lumberjack size, curly blonde hair with just a touch of gray, and intelligent blue eyes fanned with laugh lines. He was a hunk right down to the jeans hugging a tight, well-shaped rear end. “We know we aren’t picking him just because he has a nice you know what, but I still feel a little guilty I’m even thinking along those lines,” Meg told Charlie.

  Charlie laughed. “Neither of us is so long in the tooth we can’t appreciate a guy like that. Let’s just give him a call and see when he can start.”

  And she did. They met him at the house the next day. “You two have taken on a load,” he told them, pushing his baseball cap to the back of his head and giving a low whistle. “I’ve heard about Hensley Hall all my life, but this is the first time I’ve been here. It’s a beauty! You sure you both know what you’ve gotten yourselves into here?”

  “Only too well,” Charlie replied. “Here’s the inspection report. We’ll need you to tell us where to even begin!”

  Taking the report, Moe disappeared inside the house, while the sisters waited outside. Both were quiet…the only sounds were a few rustles and twitters from the overgrown bushes. Birds they both hoped. “Don’t you think he should be back by now?” Meg asked. “You don’t think something happened to him, do you? We don’t want him scared out of his wits before he even begins!”

  “Better than ‘after’ he begins. But something tells me it would take more than a ghost or two to frighten Moe Swenson” Charlie began just as the door opened behind them.

  “Well, roof first. Then the drain field needs to be redone and the hot water heater replaced. You’ll need to tell me what bathrooms you’ll be needing. The stove and refrigerator both work but… You can check that out for yourselves after you’ve eaten lunch. We can get you out of that motel and here pretty fast if you don’t mind living with all the mess. This renovation is going to take a lot of time and money. What kind of budget are we working with here?” he asked looking from one to the other.

  “Well, as to that, we’ll need some figures from you so we can see how far we can go,” Charlie began.

  “And we can help! Charlie’s good with tools and I know about gardening and stuff”

  Moe grimaced and then grinned. “Not usually a good idea having the owners on the job site, but I’m not going to turn down a pair of ‘experienced’ hands. I’ll make some phone calls and round up a crew. But first I have to get the permits we need.”

  “Any problem with that?” Meg asked before Charlie could.

  “You might be dealing with the Historical Society for one. They’ll want everything restored to their standards. But they might want to cut you some slack, considering this house has been an eyesore for years. As far as getting the help we need goes, with things as they are in town right now, there’ll be plenty of guys willing to work out here, but I’d be surprised if anyone stayed after dark.”

  “Because they all have wives and children waiting at home with their nice hot supper, right?” Charlie found herself asking dryly.

  He laughed and she liked the sound of it. Deep and so very male! “Not exactly! Something tells me you already know the reason. I’m headed down to deal with the bureaucracy. If all goes well, I’ll see you bright and early Friday morning!”

  All went well. Permits were rushed through and the Historical Society gave them a free, if ‘dismissive’ hand, so Moe and his crew pitched right in. If they didn
’t look all that happy about being there, they made sure neither Meg nor Charlie heard them grumble. And the house, surprisingly, appeared willing to cooperate. It seemed just like any other huge, moldering mansion with no hidden agenda. And, if Meg heard or felt anything stirring about, she wisely kept it to herself.

  Freddie remained at the motel (under Hannah, the maid’s capable care), as, day after day, Meg and Charlie tackled whatever needed doing. First, they emptied out the kitchen, hauling out boxes and bags of yellowed newspapers, outdated can goods, chipped and cracked dishes, and stuff that time and damp had reduced to mush. The stove was filthy with years of accumulated grease, while the fridge was full of food that had morphed into moldy lumps years before. Gagging and choking, Meg and Charlie dug in.

  Finally, hours later, after the floor, walls, cabinets, sinks and windows had been scrubbed clean, they each pulled up a chair and sat down. “It looks great! I mean it needs paint and new appliances and the cupboards replaced, but we did a great job, don’t you think?” Meg asked, looking around proudly.

  Charlie nodded. “I think we should keep the glass fronted cupboards. And I really like this table. The tile floor is really beautiful now that we can see it. It’s quite a nice room and usable now.”

  Meg smiled. “Which means one of us will have to cook. I was kind of enjoying the ‘eating out’ thing.”

  “That makes two of us…three if you count Freddie’s doggie bags.”

  ***

  They moved their efforts to the second floor bedrooms they had chosen….the ‘Rose Room’ and the ‘Blue Room’. .Stripping the beds, including the remnants of the lace canopy, they bagged it all, then rolled up the carpets and dragged them into the hall. They gathered the clothes from the armoire and dresser and boxed them neatly for the nearest thrift store. Going back inside the ‘Blue Room’, Charlie looked at the butterfly cases hanging on the walls and grimaced. “These will have to go before I'll sleep a wink in here. They really give me the creeps.“