Despite my words of encouragement, Alec declined to give me a demonstration of the claymore in action and hung it, respectfully, back on the wall. We went our separate ways: he down to his room to shower before dinner, I back to the music room.
As I entered, the room seemed very chilly and I saw the fire was almost out. A burning log shifted and collapsed with a grating sound, sending showers of sparks flying up the chimney, like a firework. I returned to my desk and opened the laptop. I remembered I’d been in the middle of a re-write of my account of Coral’s death. With my hand on the cursor, ready to highlight defective passages, I scanned the screen. As I did so, I had the strangest of feelings, like a premonition, as if something bad was about to happen.
It was.
When I got to the end of my account – Her untimely death was just a random and inexplicable accident – I saw there was now a space, then a new sentence.
It wasn’t an accident.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I hadn’t typed those words. Alec hadn’t typed those words. He’d been with me. Was this my mysterious intruder again? Or had I typed those words? If I was capable of deleting my own notes while day-dreaming, I was presumably capable of writing a short sentence without knowing I’d done it. I was a very fast typist and my fingers moved almost as quickly as I could think. Is that what had happened? I believed Coral’s death was no accident and I’d typed that?
But I did think it was an accident. I’d had no firm opinion until Alec had filled me in on the background, but once he’d told me about her pregnancy, nothing would have persuaded me Coral had taken her own life, not after she’d shared her news with her husband.
But supposing Alec was lying? What if Coral hadn’t been pregnant?... I only had to think of his pained, white face to know he was telling the truth. Or he totally believed his own lies.
I’d believed Coral was pregnant, so she wouldn’t have committed suicide. Why then had I written It wasn’t an accident? What else could it have been? But if I hadn’t typed that sentence, someone else had. Who other than Alec had an axe to grind about Coral’s death? It made no sense, so by a process of elimination, I had to conclude I’d typed something I didn’t actually believe.
Well, that wouldn’t be a first for me as a ghost writer. Many’s the time I’d had to dress up someone’s fairy story and present it as fact. I once made a good living writing fiction. Nowadays it was faction.
But I could hear myself whistling in the dark… I was worried and a part of me wanted to give Rupert a ring, just for someone normal to talk to. (Could a theoretical physicist who felt he’d been called by God ever be considered normal?) I thought I might find it soothing to hear Rupert enthusing about Harvest Festival or grumbling about parish politics. For if I was being honest – and as Alec had said, why be anything else? – I was feeling slightly scared. Scared I was losing it again, that my grip on reality had become shaky, despite the usual precautions I’d taken. I was writing things and hearing things – possibly imagining things too if I thought Alec MacNab was taking an interest in me.
I decided I wouldn’t ring Rupert, but would have a very early night. So, after a family dinner at which I was less than sparkling company, I retired to bed with my hot water bottle and an unexciting book and was soon asleep.
~
I was woken by the sound of that damn harpsichord. As I surfaced, I felt angry for several seconds before fear kicked in. Then I remembered what Zelda had said about poor Coral. When she heard it, poor wee thing, it frightened her half to death.
Was it the harpsichord? The jangling noise now seemed to be right inside my head, drilling into my brain. Was it some kind of tinnitus? My father had complained about the stress of tinnitus towards the end of his life – strange irritating sounds that never let up. Was this what was happening to me?
The music stopped, suddenly and completely. The silence was suffocating. I lay in bed shaking with nerves, wondering if I was losing my mind again or whether I’d just taken a long time to surface from a nightmare. When my breathing was back to normal, I decided I would calm myself with my usual panacea: work. I turned on the bedside lamp – immediately I felt better – then got out of bed and switched on my laptop. Waiting for it to load up, I reached for my notebook, then noticed something sitting on top. Something long, thin, shiny and sharp.
A hat pin.
I stared at the pin and tried to work out how it could have travelled from Zelda’s sitting room to my bedroom. Had it been attached to one of the photo albums? But they were still in the music room. It must have got caught up on my clothing somehow. But if so, how did it end up on top of my notebook? Had Zelda put it there? Was it a gift she’d left for me? With no explanatory note?...
My fingers were moving over the keyboard while I thought and I’d opened my draft of Sholto’s biography before I remembered the last enigmatic line of text I couldn’t account for. I scrolled down to check if the random words were still there.
They were. But that was no longer the last line. After a space there was now a new line of text.
You can do a lot of damage with a hat pin.
Zelda’s exact words. But I hadn’t written them down, not even in my notes, let alone on the laptop. I might be losing my mind, but I knew I hadn’t typed those words. Which meant someone else had. Not Zelda, surely?
Whoever it was, I was now past caring. Fuming, I fired off a rude and deeply therapeutic response without even thinking how or when my reply would be read.
Is this some kind of threat? Who are you and why are you leaving me messages? Please stop creeping into my room and playing with my laptop. If you have a problem with my being here, sit down and talk to me about it! I’m here to do a job and I only want the best for this family.
I sat there, glaring at the screen. Then, to my absolute horror, words began to appear, one by one.
And I only want the worst.
Bat out of hell doesn’t begin to describe it. I was out of my chair, across the room and into the hall before I stopped to think of any rational explanation. Slamming the door behind me, I leaned against it, my heart thumping, hoping none of the family had heard the racket I’d made. Standing there in my nightdress, shaking, I decided wild horses wouldn’t drag me back into that bedroom now. A line had been crossed. Either I was going mad again or… Or what?
The words had appeared on the screen while I was watching. I must be seeing things – things that weren’t really there. What alternative explanation could there possibly be?... My legs gave way beneath me and I sank to the floor, weeping. Gathering up some folds of my nightie, I pressed them to my mouth, trying to muffle my whimpering.
Across the hall there was a rattling sound as a door opened. I commanded my legs to move but they refused. It was dark in the corridor, so I hoped I wouldn’t be visible, cowering on the floor, but as Alec’s door opened slowly, a shaft of light fell on me. He stood silhouetted in the doorway. I saw his head drop as he spotted me on the floor. No doubt his jaw dropped too.
‘Jenny! What’s the matter?’
Blinking against the light, I couldn’t think of anything sensible to say. How do you tell someone you think you’re going mad – and for the second time? I wiped my nose discreetly on my nightie and, in as casual a voice as I could muster, said, ‘Do you know anything about laptops?’
‘Laptops?’
‘Yes. Mine’s started talking to me. In fact, I think it’s possessed.’
Alec’s reaction frightened me almost as much as the automatic writing. He was across the corridor in two strides, then he bent down, pulled me to my feet and dragged me into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He laid his hands on my shoulders and said, ‘You’ll be OK now. Nothing can harm you in here.’
When my eyes had adjusted to the light I saw that Alec was half-naked, clad in striped pyjama bottoms – a sight I was far too miserable to enjoy. In any case, my astonished eyes were torn between Alec’s slim and muscular torso and the presence in h
is room of a mini armoury. A sword hung on the wall over the bed. There was another lying on the floor where sane people would have had a bedside rug. There was another sword on the floor at the end of the bed and propped up in the uncurtained window alcove stood yet another. My writer’s eye noted an umbrella stand in the corner of the room which held no umbrellas or even walking sticks. It was full of scabbards. Well, of course. How else would Mrs Guthrie manage to get round with the Hoover?...
I started to giggle. I couldn’t help myself. Then my giggle suddenly gave way to more weeping. ‘It’s happening, Alec,’ I moaned. ‘It’s happening again! I’m seeing things. I can see swords all round this room! And I’m hearing things too! It’s me – I’m making bad things happen!’
‘It isn’t you, Jenny.’ He took hold of both my hands and said, ‘It’s nothing to do with you. You’ve just been caught in the crossfire. You’re not seeing things. My room is full of swords.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s a long story. First of all, tell me why you were crying.’
I sniffed and wiped my eyes. ‘You’re not going to believe this.’
‘Try me.’
‘My laptop’s bullying me.’
To his credit, he didn’t laugh. He didn’t even look surprised. ‘Come and sit down.’ He led me over to the bed, then threw his dressing gown round my shoulders. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘I’ve been getting strange messages.’
‘How?’
‘They’re left on my laptop. I thought it was you to begin with. I thought you wanted me to leave.’
‘Me? Why would I want you to leave? You know I’m very glad you came. Tell me about the messages.’
‘There have been three – no, four now.’
‘What did they say?’
‘The first one said, “Leave Cauldstane to its ghosts.” But that was what I’d written.’
Alec frowned. ‘I thought you said it was a message left for you?’
‘It was. But those words were part of a sentence I’d already written. I’d made notes about the family. For the book, I mean. But all the rest of my notes disappeared, apart from those few words. I thought it must be you. I thought you’d come into my room while I was asleep and deleted my notes.’
‘What were the other messages?’
‘The next one was when I’d been writing up Sholto’s account of Coral’s death.’
Alec’s eyelids flickered, but he continued to stare at me. ‘What did the message say?’
‘It said, “It wasn’t an accident”.’
He flinched and looked away. After a moment, he faced me again. ‘You’re sure about that? She said it wasn’t an accident?’
‘She? Who are you talking about? You think this is Zelda?’
He ignored me and said, ‘What was the next message?’
‘It was just something Zelda had said to me. Something she’d said in jest really.’
‘What?’
‘It said, “You can do a lot of damage with a hat pin”. ’
‘Hat pin?’
‘Zelda and I had been discussing them. She showed me her collection and told me they could be used as weapons. Women used to defend themselves with them apparently.’
‘That’s three. What was the fourth?’
I shivered and Alec tucked the dressing gown round me more firmly but his eyes never left my face. ‘It came up on the screen while I was just sitting there. So I knew it wasn’t me doing it. The other messages – well, I thought maybe I’d written them without knowing what I was doing. But this one… I watched it appear, letter by letter!’
‘What did it say?’
My mind went blank. The horror of that moment seemed to have wiped my memory, but then the words came back to me and I found I couldn’t utter them.
‘What did the fourth message say, Jenny?’
‘I just can’t believe – I mean, I must have imagined it! Or else I’m going mad. Alec, will you please come and look? I want to go back and see if those hateful words are still there.’
He seemed reluctant, but said nothing. He reached across to a chair and grabbed a T-shirt which he pulled on, then to my utter astonishment, he bent down and picked up one of the swords. I looked at it, then at his solemn face. ‘I don’t think we’ll need the hardware, Alec. It’s a talking laptop.’
‘I promise I’ll explain, but not now. Please keep close and stay behind me. Just in case.’
I struggled into his dressing gown and tied the belt. It swamped me but smelled pleasantly of Alec. ‘In case of what?’
‘Just… keep close.’
He opened the door and we crossed the passage. As he opened my bedroom door, I stood right behind him. He switched on the light and approached the desk. ‘Show me the page you were on. Let me see the last message.’
The laptop had gone to sleep, so I leaned forward, got the page back up again and pointed to my indignant outburst. ‘That’s me… I was responding to the random hat pin message. Then as I watched, the laptop wrote that.’ I pointed to the final words on the screen.
And I only want the worst.
As he read the words, I watched Alec’s chest rise and fall in a great sigh – but not of sadness. Irritation perhaps? Anger, even?
‘What’s going on, Alec? How can anyone be writing to me on my laptop? And why would anyone write anything so awful?’
He turned to me, laid his free hand on my shoulder and fixed me with a look. I’d never noticed before but the irises of his grey eyes were ringed with a much darker colour and there were golden flecks around his pupils, like sparks. I drew strength from those dark, determined eyes, long before I realised how much I was going to need it.
‘Jenny, I need to ask you to trust me, because what I’m going to say will almost certainly make you think I’m the one who’s mad.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that. I’d be glad of the company, frankly. I think I’m going completely round the bend.’
His free hand flew up to my face and he stroked my cheek. ‘D’you believe in ghosts, Jenny?’
‘Ghosts? No, I don’t think so.’ It took a moment for his words to sink in. ‘Are you saying Cauldstane is haunted? Really haunted?’ Alec nodded. ‘And you think… it’s a ghost leaving messages for me? Good God! Why me? I’m not even a MacNab!’
‘And she wants to keep it that way,’ Alec murmured as he glanced round the room, his sword still raised. ‘She’s trying to intimidate you because she wants you to leave Cauldstane. And it means you have to go, Jenny. For your own safety.’
‘I couldn’t possibly walk out on Sholto! It would break his heart. In any case, I have a job to do here. I have a contract and my professional reputation to consider. I know I was behaving like a total wimp just now, but it was shock. I really don’t scare so easily. It’s just messages on a laptop! Spooky, but just a form of cyber-bullying.’
Alec shook his head. ‘It’s more than that. I believe you could be in danger.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous! Even if there is some sort of poltergeist, I’m not in any danger. Danger of losing the plot, possibly, but if we can just work out how someone’s leaving messages on my laptop, I’ll be fine. Perhaps it’s Wilma. She’s very protective of the family. Maybe she resents my presence here.’
‘Someone does, but it isn’t Wilma.’
As I stared at the laptop, a new idea struck me. ‘Do you think someone could have hacked into my account and be doing it remotely?’
‘Aye, it’s being done remotely – but not in the way you mean.’ He handed me the sword. ‘Hold that. Just take hold of it, like I showed you with the claymore. That’s right. You’ll be OK.’
‘Alec, what on earth—’
He turned away and spread his hands. ‘Show yourself, God damn you!’
For a stunned moment, I thought Alec was addressing me, then I realised he was talking to the spirit he believed was meddling with my laptop. Needless to say, nothing happened. My arms began to ache from holding the
sword and I was shivering again. The room seemed freezing even though it was still only September.
Frightened I was going to drop it, I lowered the sword until its point rested on the floor. ‘Alec, I’m really tired. Can we discuss this in the morning? I don’t believe in ghosts and nothing is going to make me believe in them. I’m sure there’s some sort of technical explanation—’
He laid his fingers on my lips and took the sword. Looking into my eyes, he said, ‘Trust me.’ Then he took his hand away from my mouth, cupped the back of my head and kissed me. Deeply. Passionately. And I responded. Because I’d been wanting to do that for days.
The harpsichord started up again, but this time it wasn’t just in my head, it filled the room, getting louder and louder, until I thought my ears would burst. Alec was still looking at me, shouting something I couldn’t hear when, over his shoulder, I saw first one, then the other Staffordshire china dog leave the chest of drawers and hurtle through the air, making for his head. As I yelled a warning, he turned, raised his sword and dashed both figurines to the floor, where they shattered. I stepped back, terrified, but Alec grabbed hold of me and bellowed over the music, ‘Now d’you believe me?’ His eyes were alight. He seemed almost exultant.
Then the forgotten hat pin on my desk leaped into the air and came flying straight for my face, but Alec saw it and swiped it away with a flick of his sword arm. It bounced off the wall and fell to the floor, joining the shards of pottery. The music stopped as suddenly as it had started and left my ears ringing. Alec stood poised and alert, his eyes moving quickly back and forth, scanning the room for the source of the next attack. But I saw it first.
‘Look…’ I pointed to the laptop screen which was growing dark with text. Letters were appearing at an impossible rate, filling the screen with a silent tirade.
I clutched at Alec. ‘In God’s name, who is it?’
His mouth was set in a grim line as he watched the screen, the text scrolling now at a demented speed. Then, in a voice so deep, so angry, I hardly recognised it as his, Alec said, ‘Jenny, allow me to introduce you to the ghost of my dear departed step-mother… Meredith MacNab.’
Cauldstane Page 12