Bloody Moor: A Ghost Story (Taryn's Camera Book 8)

by Rebecca Patrick-Howard

  And it was good to get out from under Paul’s feet. He’d been down in the kitchen that morning, plodding around and bossing everyone about. The owners would be there in a day or two; Taryn imagined that Paul was nervous about their arrival. Still, he’d been a real weenie.

  “Um, Paul, I need you to take a look at the window near my bed,” Taryn had told him. “I’m afraid the glass is going to fall out of the frame and the wood around it is rotting.”

  He’d glared at her and for a moment she’d thought he was going to snap but in the end he’d shrugged, muttered something under his breath, and stomped away, his hot tea sloshing over the side of his cup.

  “I’m going in the morning,” Taryn replied. “Taking the bus to Carmarthen and then the train. I think there’s a change of station somewhere along the way. And then I have to take a bus from someplace else. Bristol maybe? I have it all written down.”

  “If you wanted to wait a day I could take you part way,” Shawn said. “I’m heading that way to visit a friend.”

  “I’m kind of in the mood to go now,” Taryn told him, “but thanks.”

  “You going to be gone long?” Nicki asked.

  “Just a night or two,” Taryn replied. “I am sure you’ll get a lot more done with me gone!”

  With that, Shawn turned up the radio and, blasting Creedence, they sped on towards Aberystwyth, just three friends out for a morning drive in the sunshine.

  ***

  Taryn, Nicki, and Shawn stood before the door and frowned collectively at the “closed” sign.

  “I can’t believe they closed at noon today,” Nicki sighed.

  “I could’ve slept in,” Shawn grumbled.

  Taryn looked at him from the corner of her eye, “Well, if someone hadn’t dragged their sorry butt in at for in the morning, they wouldn’t be so tired.”

  “I can’t believe you decided to go out drinking at midnight,” Nicki added.

  “I have a social life, so sue me,” Shawn shrugged with a grin. “But you’re my main girls.”

  “I guess we could come back another day,” Nicki said dubiously. She turned and started to walk away but Taryn stopped her.

  “Let’s knock,” she suggested. “We came all this way. Maybe someone’s in there.”

  Several seconds later, the metal door was opened by a woman with gray hair plaited into two pigtails and tiny horn-rimmed glasses. She peered over her frames at the three of them with suspicion and was in no hurry to move aside or open further.

  “Hi,” Taryn began brightly. “We are so sorry to bother you but we’re not from here and we drove a really long way to look at something in your special collections. Is there any way possible we could come in, just for a second?”

  “I have a meeting at 12:30,” the woman sniffed. “Nothing in here for you to see would take less than an hour.”

  “Oh,” Nicki replied, disappointment lacing her voice.

  “How about this,” Shawn said, putting on his best manners. “What we want to see is an old diary. Is there any way we could come in and make a photocopy of it and just take it with us?”

  “Whose diary?” she demanded.

  “From Ceredigion House,” Taryn replied. “Iona-“

  “I know the one,” the woman said. She appeared to marinate on the idea for a minute and then finally weakened and held the door open for them.

  “Thank you!” Nicki squealed. Her response was so authentic that the woman cracked a smile. The action softened her face immensely, making her look ten years younger.

  “The fact is,” she said, “we don’t let visitors see the original journal. It’s much too old and fragile. We keep it in a temperature-controlled room upstairs. We do have a copy of it, however. Nobody’s asked to see it in years.”

  “Can we make our own copy?” Taryn asked.

  The woman paused. “Is this for research purposes?”

  Taryn nodded. “Yes. We’re all three working at Ceredigion House. I’m the artist, helping them restore the exterior.”

  “I’m the gardener,” Nicki added. “Well, historical landscaper, actually.”

  Shawn raised his hand. “Architect here.”

  That seemed good enough for her.

  They waited while the woman disappeared behind a bookshelf that reached all the way to the ceiling. Nicki and Taryn seated themselves at a table while Shawn, left to his own devices, began poking around a stack of books near the row of windows that overlooked the water.

  “Look!” he exclaimed, holding up a volume and showing it to them. “Hangings!”

  Nicki wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. That’s so depressing.”

  “I think it’s interesting,” he shrugged.

  “They’d stopped the hangings by the time Iona was executed,” the woman called as she reappeared from behind the shelf. She carried nothing in her hands and, at first, Taryn was disappointed, thinking that perhaps she’d changed her mind.

  “I took it to the office. It’s copying now,” she explained, as though reading Taryn’s mind.

  “So they weren’t hanging people for witchcraft then but they killed her anyway?” Nicki asked. Her brows creased into thick lines and she chewed on her top lip. It was something Taryn had noticed her doing when she was perplexed, or in pain.

  “Wasn’t it odd, at any rate, that she would’ve been hanged at all?” Taryn added. “Considering that she was gentry?”

  “You do realize that the only reason she was allowed to continue living in Ceredigion House was because her uncle, her father’s brother, allowed her?” she offered.

  They all shook their heads “no.”

  “Being a woman in that day and time, the house would not have gone to her when he passed,” she explained. “It went to his brother, his closest male relative.”

  “So what about the man she was meant to marry?” Taryn asked. “What would’ve happened if they’d done it?”

  The woman sighed and glanced at her watch. Apparently deciding she had a few minutes to spare, she perched on the edge of the nearest table and began to talk. “George Haycock already had an estate in Yorkshire. He had no desire to keep up Ceredigion House, although I imagine that the land was enticing to him. Iona’s father had left her a substantial dowry. Amlodd was wealthy in his own right, or was going to be, but he had no land. The arrangement was for him to marry her and bring his money into the family. Her dowry was enticing to him and would have added to his wealth. And George promised them the house and land if the arrangement went through. It was a win-win for everyone involved: George no longer had the upkeep of a house and land he didn’t want, Iona had a social standing as a society wife and money to live on, and Amlodd had his land and pretty young wife.”

  “But then something happened and there was no marriage,” Taryn pointed out.

  She nodded. “Everyone just assumed that Amlodd discovered her witchery and left her. Soon after, she was accused of killing the property manager. She was taken away and executed six months later.”

  “And,” Shawn added, “ironically Amlodd didn’t end up with his money either and died.”

  “And George Haycock ended up with the property that he didn’t want,” Nicki said.

  “I realize that people thought Iona drove him away but is it possible that she learned that he wasn’t going to inherit and made him leave?” Taryn asked.

  She shrugged. “No idea, my dear. Anything is possible; that was a very long time ago.”

  She jumped up then and scampered into the other room. They could hear her shuffling papers around and cursing at something.

  “Wonder why they waited so long to hang her?” Shawn mused. “Wonder what they did with her in the meantime?”

  Taryn wanted to ask, but hesitated. She looked cross when she reappeared with the copy of the diary.

  “I put it all into a folder for you and put the folder in a bag,” she said in a rush, handing the Primark bag to Taryn. “All neat and tidy for you now.”

  With the way she was
herding them to the door, Taryn knew their time was up.

  “Thanks again for doing this for us,” Nicki cried as they were ushered back into the library’s lobby.

  The woman threw them one last tight-lipped smile and waved them off.

  “Well,” Shawn said jovially, puffing out his chest and running a finger through his curly hair, “I think she liked us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  THEIR ORIGINAL IDEA had been to find a quiet café, sit down, and start reading through the diary together.

  Shawn had talked the women out of that.

  “It’s a nice day,” he cajoled them. “Look, not a cloud in the sky. Let’s get some ice cream, walk along the water, and then go check out the castle.”

  It didn’t take asking them twice to agree.

  Taryn thought she might just be in love with Aberystwyth. The seaside town was full of winding streets with shops, pubs, and cafes. It had a busy train station on one side of town and the Irish Sea on the other. She adored the multi-colored buildings that faced the water, curving around the natural shoreline, faded from salt and sun.

  They grabbed ice cream cones from a seaside stand and spread Shawn’s jacket out on the pebbly beach. Laughing and joking with one another, they watched the waves crash against the shore and listened to the seagulls fly overhead, perhaps preparing to leave for nearby Ireland.

  For awhile they forgot about ghosts, about Ceredigion House, about the cranky caretaker that found their presence obtrusive and offensive.

  After a lunch of chili dogs and chips at a pub on the waterfront, they followed the water to the castle remains. Perched high atop a hill overlooking the town and sea, what was left of the imposing castle hinted at its former grandness. Thanks to the warm spring weather they were finally getting, ambitious flowers had begun popping up around the impressive stone structures, their colors a rainbow against the gray stones.

  When Nicki and Shawn fell into an animated discussion about a television show she’d never heard of, Taryn wandered away from them and found herself on a lookout. The water below was deep blue and the waves sparkled with diamonds. She peered into the horizon, straining her eyes to see Ireland in the distance. From where she stood and with her renewed sense of wonderment restored by her time at Ceredigion House, Taryn could almost believe that there was a bigger world out there- a magical world. She forgot about her aching bones and throbbing muscles, forgot about the intrusive aneurysm that grew deep inside her and threatened to rupture and end everything; she even forgot about Matt for a moment. It was just her, the sun, the wind, and the sea. Taryn felt lighter, and more optimistic about the future, than she had in a very long time.

  “You going to fly away up there?” Nicki called.

  Taryn looked down and Nicki waved, a big grin spread across her face.

  “You been up here for so long, I wanna see what I’m missing out on,” Shawn bellowed loudly as he bounded up the stairs. “Laughing, he reached the top and pushed Taryn over to make room for himself. Once up there, though, he sobered.

  “You okay?” he whispered.

  She nodded and then leaned over on his shoulder. “I, uh, read about that Ehlers Danlos the other night. That’s some rough shit. I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  Taryn was touched- moved that he had taken the time to research it on his own. It meant he cared. She thought of all the times people had tried to make her “feel better” after Andrew’s death. The well-meaning people, telling her that he was “with God” or how “God just wanted another angel” or that “everything happens for a reason.” Clichés, platitudes, that just made her want to punch the lot of them. Sometimes, when you didn’t know what to say, a simple “I’m sorry” was the best. You couldn’t fix it when someone died, just as nobody could fix her EDS. But sometimes just knowing that someone was thinking of her was enough.

  “You deserve better than the guy back home,” Shawn said. “He’s a jackass.”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” she protested.

  “No it’s not,” he argued. “I’ve been there. If it’s not coming easy then it isn’t right.”

  “What if it’s my last change, my only chance, to be with someone who loves me?” she asked, her voice small. “Love comes in different shapes and sizes. The big, romantic gestures and crazy feelings we see in romance movies and books aren’t real. They give us false expectations.”

  “Maybe they do,” Shawn shrugged. “But what if they don’t?”

  “I don’t want to live my life on a ‘maybe.’”

  He laughed and gave her a squeeze. “Mami, we all live our lives under maybes.”

  ***

  There was a small crowd of people gathered outside the house when they returned. Still in good moods from their outing, and Taryn with the diary tucked safely in her backpack, they parked the car and were still laughing and joking around with each other when they started for the stairs. Their good moods came to an abrupt halt when Paul met them halfway.

  “Had to call the plumber, I did,” he snapped. He was always snapping about something, but this time his face was beet red. “Pipes are messed up. They have to dig a hole and replace them.”

  “I’m sorry,” Shawn said, “but you and I talked about the a few days ago. It was something that was going to have to be done either way.”

  Miriam, standing behind Paul where he could not see her, rolled her eyes.

  Paul was not listening, however. Instead, he turned to Taryn and Nicki. “I am sure I have you two to blame, don’t I now? All your women’s products and those little unicorn clips going right down the drain and toilet. Plugging things up.”

  Nicki and Taryn looked at each other in confusion. Taryn could feel her own face warming with embarrassment; they were surrounded by strange men and Paul was basically calling them out on their feminine functions. It was on the tip of her tongue to give him a lecture on the way a cycle works when it’s on birth control pills but, upon seeing Nicki’s mortification, held back. And then she realized what he had said. Taryn’s mouth dropped open in shock.

  “Let’s give them a break, okay mate?” One of the older men standing off to the side looked down at the ground, his face growing as red as Taryn’s felt. “Could’ve happened at any time, as the lad there said.”

  “She’s a miss,” Paul said, pointing at Taryn. “Always getting in the way. And I think she destroyed the window in her bedroom. I’ll be telling the owners about that, you know. Make sure they dock you for the time I have to spend fixing it.”

  “Oh, come on,” Shawn scoffed. His tone was casual but his eyes burned.

  Taryn’s good humor, however, was dwindling. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant Paul’s animosity; he was just a grumpy man looking to take his anger out on whoever looked at him cross-eyed.

  “I didn’t break your toilets or your window,” she snapped. “It’s an old house with old problems and maybe if you’d taken more care of it instead of running around naked in the guest rooms these things wouldn’t have happened.”

  Someone snickered but Taryn wasn’t looking at the rest of the crowd to see from which direction it came. Paul managed to look even angrier.

  “And it was you that got into my suitcase and stole my hair clips! I knew it,” Taryn seethed. “Have you also been moving my supplies and stealing things out of my room? Why?”

  “I’d send you on out of here if I could,” he fumed as he looked around quickly, trying to gauge everyone’s reaction as they considered him in new light.

  “I’d send you to an early grave if I could,” she snapped back, her stomach boiling with anger. And, with that, she marched up the stairs, leaving everyone else to fight it out without her.

  ***

  “You doing okay there lady?”

  Miriam stood in Taryn’s doorway, offering a Galaxy bar from one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Taryn paused in her packing and gladly took both.

  “Are you leaving us then?” Miriam
asked. She walked inside the room and lowered herself to one of the chairs. “It can’t be as bad as all that now, is it?”

  “I’m just going to Glastonbury for a couple of days,” Taryn explained. “I was already going before. Don’t worry, I won’t let someone like him run me off.”

  “There’s a good girl then,” Miriam beamed. “When are you leaving?”

  “In the morning.”

  “Oh, mercy me. I need a nap.” Miriam stretched her legs out before her and yawned loudly. “I tell you what, I am leaving for Bristol tonight to spend the weekend with my sister. If you’d like, I can give you a lift as far as that. If you can be ready to leave in an hour.”

  Taryn looked down at her suitcase. She was basically finished. It was just a matter of straightening up her room and telling the other two that she was leaving early.

  “Sure,” she shrugged. “That’s really nice. I wouldn’t mind going early, after what happened this afternoon.”

  Miriam rose and smiled. “I’ll meet you out front when I’m off then.”

  Chapter Thirty

  FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HER LIFE, Taryn Magill was staying in a youth hostel. She was so excited she could barely contain herself.

  The hostel was three stories tall and contained twenty-something rooms. Bunk beds and singles were crammed into the small places like sardines, bedding consisted of a flat pillow and thin duvet, and the single bathroom on each floor was unisex and had to accommodate more than two dozen people.

  Taryn loved it.

  There were six bunkbeds in her room, but only three of them were occupied. A younger woman with long red hair and a lip piercing had one; a short-haired Canadian with a hat that made it look like she had cat ears had the other. Taryn introduced herself while she was busily straightening her bed and placing a teddy bear on the pillow.

  “Hi, I’m Taryn,” she said. The woman smiled and Taryn realized that she couldn’t have been much older than twenty. Taryn was probably the oldest person in the hostel. She didn’t care.