Jenny Telfer Chaplin

by Hopes

  Miss Patten waved Mary to a chair.

  “Sit down, Mary. I can see you have a great deal to learn about the supernatural. I should say at once that when I get messages for other people the words often make little or no sense to me. They do however convey something of value, interest or importance to the person for whom they are intended. Can you understand that concept?”

  Without giving Mary a chance to agree or disagree Miss Patten went on: “Now then, my spirit friend is not giving me a minute’s peace until I give you her message. She says your sixpence was well spent and that you should not turn away from its harvesting.”

  Was it ... could it be possible that Mrs Wright was still giving her good advice from beyond the grave? Anyway, she now had the answer to her dilemma. Ivylea House was to be her fate.

  In the days that followed, now that the ice had been broken, Miss Patten would invite Mary into the drawing room and talk to Mary about her spiritual beliefs.

  She told Mary: “Every thought we have becomes a reality; whatever happens to us on life’s journey, things are as they are meant to be; it is always best to go with the flow of life; there are no such things as coincidences; everything happens for a reason.”

  There were times when, to Mary’s utter astonishment, Miss Patten revealed her knowledge about details in Mary’s past, events known now only to Mary and those involved.

  In one case – the accident in the factory when a man working at a faulty machine was fatally injured – Miss Patten not only reeled off the account precise in every detail but even gave the name of the man involved, Gus Carter.

  When she finished telling of the accident, Miss Patten sat, apparently lost in thought, with a faraway expression in her eyes. Then she nodded and in a subdued voice said: “Thank you, spirit. Yes indeed! Yes, I will tell Mary, thank you.”

  Mary sat tense with excitement on the edge of her seat. What else ... what other revelations were to come?

  “I am being told that after Gus Carter’s accident you and your mother were treated very cruelly in your neighbourhood. Is that not so?”

  Mary simply nodded.

  “Yes. Quite so. Yes, I’ve got that, thank you. Spirit is saying that not only did others blame you, but it finally got to the point where you even began to believe that in some strange way it had all actually been your fault.”

  On the point of tears, Mary could only nod dumbly again.

  Miss Patten leant forward to pat Mary’s hand and said kindly: “There now, Mary no need to upset yourself. The fact of the matter is: none other than Gus Carter himself came through to say – no, to insist – that in no way should the blame for the accident be laid at your door. Had he heeded your warning who knows what might have happened? He chose not only to ignore it, but also to act foolishly, recklessly at the machine – it was his time to pass to the other side.”

  Chapter Eight

  As the hooters from the ships on the River Clyde sounded out their welcome to the year 1899 Miss Elenora Patten and Mary Gregg toasted its arrival with crystal goblets of elderberry wine. As they did so, Mary thought: This New Year means I’ve been here at Ivylea House for three years! Amazing. Where on earth has the time gone?

  “Mary,” Elenora Patten said, “I know these have been happy years for you here in my house, but even so, even although you are now rather more my companion than paid housekeeper, there is something ...”

  Mary wondered what could possibly be the problem.

  “I do realise that you feel your destiny lays here in this house. Of course I already know Ivylea will always have a place in your heart, in your life – that is the way it is meant to be. Even so, my dear, you are still a young woman and there is so much of life you have yet to experience ... do you get my meaning?”

  Blushing, Mary put a trembling hand to her cheek and felt the intense heat of her embarrassment. She thought: I might have known Miss Patten would find out, but I bet in this case it was some local nosey-parker rather than any spirit guide that told her about Ted.

  “I’m getting the name, Edward, Eddie, Ed, something like that ... oh! ... now I see it’s Ted. Yes! Now then, Mary, who is this Ted?”

  “Put it this way, Miss Patten, you are the medium, so why don’t you tell me?” Mary laughed nervously to try to cover her embarrassment.

  “If only you knew how many times sceptics have said this to me when I’ve been trying to give them a message from a loved one on the other side.”

  They both laughed, but before Mary could say anything Miss Patten went on: “One thing I will tell you ... but this you already know, this particular young man far from being in the Great Beyond is in the here and now ... and very much alive, is that not so?”

  Mary felt a rush of blood to her cheeks at the memory of her most recent encounter with the self-same Ted. Now that his name and the acknowledgement of his existence was out in the open she decided to open her heart and confide in Miss Patten.

  Chapter Nine

  It was well into the raw, damp days of January before Mary again bumped into Ted on Dunoon’s Argyll Street. At the memory of Miss Patten’s advice not to let the bird in the hand go in the hope of catching a better one, Mary giggled. Seeing Ted’s puzzled look at her laughter, Mary quickly composed herself before he could take fright and head for the safety of the nearest tavern. She took a deep breath, clutched the handle of her wicker basket for support and rushed on.

  “Ted. Ah’m glad Ah bumped into ye. Ah might be able to put a bit o work yer way. It’s my employer, Miss Patten, up at Ivylea House, she...”

  “Ivylea House! Yon pernickety auld maid? Anyway, ye wouldnae catch me within an inch o that haunted house. Fair crawling with ghosts, so it is.”

  “But, Ted–”

  “But, Ted, nothing. Me work in a place like that? Ah don’t mind tellin ye, it would scare the livin daylights out o me. Ah can stand maist things, but ye’ll no get me kowtowing to any auld maid’s ghosts – the only spirit Ah can thole comes out o a bottle – a good single blend one at that, and no too often.”

  For once greatly daring in approaching a man, Mary laid a restraining hand on his arm.

  “Ted, look at me. Do Ah look half-scared out o my wits? Of course Ah don’t, yet Ah’ve been working – actually livin – at Ivylea for years. Don’t tell me ye’re gonnae let a mere woman beat ye in the bravery stakes. Are ye a man or a mouse?”

  Later that same morning Mary was able to report to Miss Patten that Ted would appear the very next day for possible work orders.

  “Well done, Mary. This way not only will I get to meet the young man, get to know him for your sake and if he is any suitable husband material then I’ll encourage him to court you, all proper and above board here. After all, once he repairs the conservatory, we might at as well put it to good use.”

  As Mary laughed in agreement with her employer’s scheme, she thought: Maybe her dream of being proposed to in a flower-bedecked conservatory might come true after all. Even though the handsome Ted Drummond in his workman’s tweed bunnet was far short of the idea of a top-hatted laird, even so as an honest, hard-working jack-of-all-trades, as long as his intentions were honourable, then he would be as good a catch as orphan Mary Gregg was ever likely to snare. ‘Suitable husband material’ was what Miss Patten had said. Well, time would tell. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

  Next morning Ted Drummond appeared at the kitchen door at the appointed hour, nervously clutching his bunnet in clammy hands.

  Mary smiled. I wonder if he thinks that will protect him from ghosts and ghouls?

  “Good mornin, Ted. Ye’re well up to time. Miss Patten will like that. Come in. Just wipe yer feet on the mat.”

  Doing her bidding Ted said: “Well up to time? Aye, Ah suppose Ah am. But Ah can tell ye, staunin at the end o that driveway Ah was within an inch o turnin tail. If one o ma pals hadnae dared me tae walk up here, and if he hadnae waited tae see ...”

  Mary bustled about her kitchen. “Ye’re here now. Ah’ll s
how ye along to the dining room. Miss Patten’s waiting there to interview ye. She said once ye’re finished talking with her before ye start on any work – if that’s what is decided – ye can come back here to the kitchen for a dish of tea and a tasting of my treacle scones.”

  Ted grimaced. “It would sound hell o a lot better if it was tae be something a bit stronger than tea tae calm ma nerves after comin into this haunted house.”

  “Don’t start all that nonsense again, Ted. Take my word for it ye’ll be fine. Now, let’s not keep Miss Patten waiting.”

  On their way along the dim hallway, Mary saw Ted eyeing the tapestry and other rich fittings she had become accustomed to over the years.

  Having ushered the still-reluctant Ted into the room and announced him, Mary was on the point of closing the door behind him when she heard Miss Patten say: “Come away in, Ted. I have your Granny Greenock here for you.”

  Quickly, Mary closed the door before Ted could flee.

  No point in letting ‘good husband material’ escape the net this early

  Chuckling, Mary returned to the kitchen to await, with what patience she could muster, Ted’s return from his first meeting with the medium Miss Patten.

  When Ted made his way back to the kitchen, Mary settled him with a dish of strong tea and a plate of buttered treacle scones while she took a tray along to Miss Patten.

  “I won’t keep you from the kitchen, Mary, but before you go I will say, yes, I think the young man will do very nicely. I’ve given him orders to start work on the necessary repairs to the conservatory this very day. Now, be off with you.”

  Had there been some double meaning to Miss Patten’s words? Mary wondered. No, I’m just letting my imagination run away with me as usual. She settled herself across the table from Ted and waited to hear his version of the meeting.

  “Honestly, Mary,” Ted said once more back in the safety of the kitchen, “If ye hadn’t closed that door behind me so quick Ah’d hae been out o the room and down the driveway as if Auld Nick himsel had been after me. Ah ask, ye ... ma Granny Greenock! The auld soul was dead and buried when Ah was jist a wee lad at school, years ago.”

  Mary smiled. “Ah know exactly what ye mean. The very first time Ah got a message from the world of spirit it really shook me up.”

  “Mind ye, once Ah was over the first shock and realised what a nice woman Miss Patten is Ah knew she wasnae meaning me any harm. And when she told me just how much she would pay me tae sort out that disaster o a conservatory for her ... well, Ah felt Ah was home and dry.”

  “That’s great news, Ted. It’ll get ye through the rest o the winter.”

  “Aye, ye're right, Mary. Ye’ve done me a real good turn recommending me for the job. Many an unemployed labourer would jump at the chance, especially tae be in out of the January cold and get paid for it. Mind ye ... Ah don’t say Ah’d be over happy tae be workin right inside the house itself. It seems safe enough here in the kitchen, but those hallways give me the creeps.”

  Mary laughed. “Away with ye, ye big softie. No self respectin ghost would go to the trouble o hauntin ye – it would be just too easy.”

  Close to the end of May the conservatory was almost back to its former glory.

  One evening, as he and Mary stood admiring its new splendour, Ted actually got down on one knee and proposed. Mary, scarcely believing that this long-cherished fantasy was actually becoming a reality, accepted.

  When she told Miss Patten how dreamlike it all seemed she raised her eyes in surprise.

  “Mary, lass. I thought you’d know better by now, especially after all the teaching of spiritual matters I’ve given you over the years. Thoughts, be they positive, or God forbid, negative, become things and the things become a reality. That’s why we should always send out only good, positive thoughts into the atmosphere. If you want good things to happen, then pleasant, happy thoughts should always be the order of the day on this earthly plane.”

  Having delivered herself of this homily, Miss Patten went on: “Now, what about a date for the wedding? Early to mid-July would be ideal, don’t you think? Of course, my gift to you and Ted will be your wedding reception held in my newly refurbished conservatory. So, what do you think, Mary?”

  Mary threw her arms round the older woman and at once felt that this spontaneous gesture meant more than mere words could ever convey. Both women stood with tears in their eyes. Mary knew that since she had first set foot in Ivylea House her life had changed for the better ... the house itself, the medium, the positive thoughts, and the spirit friends had all come together to work their magic.

  Chapter Ten

  The July church wedding and later reception in Ivylea’s conservatory was all and more than Mary had ever dreamed of. Even now as the year headed into the vibrant colours of autumn Mary could still hardly believe how wonderfully her life had changed.

  In Ted she had found herself a kind, considerate and loving husband. Her one concern was that Ted was now impatient for them to leave Ivylea and get on with their own lives independent of Miss Patten, but so far he hadn’t made too much of a fuss about the matter.

  Miss Patten, however, soon sensed that there was some problem, that all was not well with the newlyweds. True to form, rather than beat about the bush she tackled the issue head on.

  “Mary, would you please bring a tray of tea things to the drawing room – and join me there for tea. There are some matters I wish to discuss with you while Ted is at work.”

  As soon as they were settled – Mary a little nervous at having her morning ‘cuppa’ in the drawing room rather than as usual by herself in the kitchen – Miss Patten said: “Now then, Mary, what is the problem? And please don’t tell me to mind my own business. To me now you are almost the daughter I would love to have had if I had been fortunate enough to marry. So, what is wrong?”

  Shocked almost as much by the revelation that she was now regarded as the adopted daughter of the house as she was by the bald question, Mary was on the point of tears.

  “Wrong? Why ... nothing, nothing at all.”

  Miss Patten fixed Mary with a steady gaze. “Mary!”

  Mary looked down at her hands and fiddled with her wedding ring before she finally said: “Well ... It’s Ted. He does know how lucky we are. Me, still working for you and us having those two lovely rooms upstairs ... but ... but ...”

  “Yes, I thought as much.” Miss Patten nodded. “He’s a man! He feels he should be more independent and not beholden to an old maid like me – a mere woman.”

  Mary put out a restraining hand but Miss Patten was not to be put off.

  “Ted feels you should both be off somewhere tackling life’s issues as an independent married couple rather than tied to my apron strings. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  Tears coursing down her cheeks, Mary nodded dumbly. Then after dabbing at her eyes she said: “Yes ... and of all places he wants us to go to Glasgow.”

  “Glasgow? Why there, Mary?”

  “He says there is money to be made there in the shipyards, the manufactories, the carpet mills. He is determined to go. Ah can’t bear the thought of leaving you, of never seeing Ivylea or Argyll again.”

  “Now, Mary. Glasgow is not the end of the earth. With all the ferries and people coming here for holidays, it is no distance at all.”

  This did little to settle Mary’s nerves as she feared that if Ted, as her legally-wed husband and master, made up his mind on the proposed move there would be nothing she could do to dissuade him.

  “Mary, I might have an idea,” Miss Patten said. “This evening when Ted finishes work I’ll have a word with him. The stable down by the old carriage entrance is a sound stone building. I’m sure Ted could easily convert it to a grand wee cottage for the pair of you. Then he’d not be living under the roof of an interfering old maid. What do you think of that?”

  When Ted returned from seeing Miss Patten that evening, Mary after one look at his face clapped her hands then laid a hand on hi
s arm. “Oh, Ted, that’s marvellous! I can see from your face you’re pleased with your meeting. Won’t a lovely wee cottage be–”

  Ted scowled. “Aye, the meeting pleased me. Ah took ma stand with that spaewife. She’s no the only one tae deliver messages. Ah soon telt her her fortune.”

  The colour drained from Mary’s face. “Oh, Ted. Ah don’t understand. Ah hope ye weren’t rude to Miss Patten. It’s not everybody that would offer ye a wee cottage for free and also guarantee to keep me on in paid employment even after the baby comes.”

  “Ah just told her Ah was tired o livin on her charity. Ah’ll not be beholden tae any rich auld maid. Ah’m big enough and ugly enough tae provide bed and board for ma wife and the comin bairn.”

  “Ye surely didn’t say all that to Miss Patten? She’s been so kind to us.”

  “Ah said that and more. Ah telt her that if she really was in cahoots with all yon spirit folk she is aye on about, then she would hae known what ma answer would be. That Ah’d want no part o Ivyleaf Cottage. So why the hell did she bother asking me?”

  Mary collapsed onto the nearest chair. “This gets worse and worse. What did Miss Patten say when ye questioned her psychic power in that way?”

  Ted frowned and looked puzzled for a moment. “She didnae answer that directly, somethin about ‘many paths’ or some such nonsense about free will.” He paused. “She did say if Ah was determined tae go to Glasgow that ‘where possible Ah should avoid crowds and instead see the daffodils’. A load o bloody rubbish. She must hae seen by ma face that Ah was takin all this spirit stuff with a bit more than a pinch o salt because before Ah left the room she said if Ah wouldn’t take heed o what she was sayin Ah should listen tae ye when the time comes. ‘For Mary too is psychic, although she is perhaps not yet fully aware.’ At least Ah got the last word in. Ah said, even though Ah can’t speak tae spirits Ah know there are crowds at every turn in Glasgow and damn few daffodils.”