The Ghost of Kathleen Murphy

by Vickie Carroll

  “That will work well enough. I don’t need internet to do my writing, just a bit of research work now and then and to check my email.”

  April eyed Cassie’s laptop. “Would you mind telling me what you are writing about now?”

  Cassie smiled as she opened her laptop and positioned it on the table. “It’s to be a novel based on Celtic myths and legends, or one of the myths or legends I should say. I am here in Ireland to hunt for an old story to inspire me, and to be the basis for my book. I don’t have a job anymore so I need to write it fast.”

  “Well, you came to the right place for myths.” April walked to the French doors and looked out onto the grounds as if she could see something mythical waiting for them there.

  “Thank you for your help with the bags. Can I count on you for some information about local myths?”

  “Yes, of course. Though the handsome Jacob Sullivan is the expert.”

  Cassie laughed but did not reply. A man was the last thing she needed in her life.

  April closed the doors to the balcony. “Well then, I will leave you now. I’ll come back in two hours to get you for lunch.”

  “Great. I am positive I would end up lost otherwise.” Cassie walked with April to the door and resisted the urge to lock the door behind her.

  She unpacked, washed her face, and turned down the bed, but she was too keyed up to nap. Instead, she took out her research notes and set out her supplies on the worktable, but her restlessness drove her out to the balcony. Cassie sat in one of the small but comfortable chairs, closed her eyes, and let her mind drift into the misty state at sleep’s door. The wind caressed her arms like small fingers, and she relaxed as she stopped remembering, stopped thinking, and rested in a state of nothingness. A dog barked in the distance, and she opened her eyes. She looked at her watch and couldn’t believe an hour had gone by. She stood and stretched. As her vision cleared, she looked at the garden below and the trees in the distance. It was then she saw the flash of white in the trees. It was like a bouncing light.

  “What the…?”

  It was gone as quickly as it appeared, and though she watched for a few minutes longer, it didn’t reappear. She went back inside to fix her face and before long April was at the door ready to escort her to lunch.

  “Shall I take you the short way or the longer route to see some of the old monastery side?”

  “I think the short way today. Maybe we can schedule a tour tomorrow.” Cassie picked up her pace to keep up with April’s flying feet.

  “That might be best since we are short on time.”

  “April, how old are you?”

  “I turned twenty last month. I know I am small for my age, everyone says so.”

  “I just wondered since I am no good at guessing ages.”

  “Sometimes people treat me as if I am much younger because I’m petite. I don’t like it.”

  “I promise I won’t make that mistake.”

  April smiled, and held her head a little higher. “We are almost there; can you smell food?”

  “Yes, but I am not sure what time my stomach thinks it is.”

  April kept up a constant stream of chatter as they walked. “We are coming to the new section now.”

  Cassie tried to process what she was hearing and seeing, but April’s pace was too fast to allow for much observation. The haunting sound of bells erupted from the direction they were heading.

  April slowed her pace now. “Ah, those bells call us to meals. In the old days, they called the Sisters to prayer, too.”

  “They are lovely. Oh, where are the archives? I’ve agreed to work there as well as teach the writing workshop to earn my keep.”

  “I’ll take you there after lunch. We need to be seated for meals before the bells stop ringing. The archive room is in the old section, too, and not far from our rooms.”

  Cassie put her hands up to her ears. “Those bells are beautiful but very loud now as we are closer.”

  “Yes, the idea is to hear them from anywhere on the property. The retreat owners decided to keep them to call everyone for meals and for any announcements. And here we are at our dining room, and we beat the bells.”

  They turned the corner as the last note from the bells died away. Two large glass doors led into a room set up with at least a dozen round tables. It looked more like a nice restaurant rather than the cafeteria Cassie pictured. There was a buffet area for salads and breads, and a large glass table for desserts and coffee. It was functional and informal but modern.

  She followed April to a table located by a large window where an older woman was reading a book of poetry.

  “Miss Malone, this is Bernadette, our librarian. She has done some work in the archives, too, and she also writes nice poems and such. She teaches one of the poetry seminars every summer. I’ll leave you a minute to get acquainted while I get the tea.”

  Bernadette did not smile. “Sit down, Miss Malone. I have an injured ankle so forgive me for sitting before everyone else.”

  “Oh, I hope it is nothing serious.”

  “No, it’s not worth discussing. What kind of writing do you do, Miss Malone?”

  “Well, not good poetry, for sure. I’ve done articles and a few short stories but I’m working on two book ideas right now. The one I hope to research here is going to be based on a Celtic myth or legend, I hope. It is just in the early thinking stage right now.”

  “Ah yes, we Celts are famous for our legends and myths, and of course we are known for our wonderful storytellers and writers. Maybe you will meet my nephew, Jacob Sullivan; he writes, too, and owns the bookstore in the village.”

  “I met him when I arrived, he seems very nice. How long have you been here, if you don’t mind telling me?”

  “I have lived around here all my life. I used to teach in one of the local schools and as I got older I wanted more time to myself so I took this job as Librarian and Archives Manager at the retreat house when they opened a few years ago. I do some classes on poetry and a few tours. The job came with room and board. I never married, you see.”

  “Well, it all seems to have worked out just fine. It must be great to live in such a special place with such a rich history.”

  “Yes, a lot of history, and some of it not so good.” Bernadette glanced out the window for the third time, as if watching for something or someone.

  “I’d love to hear more about the history of the castle and monastery if you are willing,” Cassie said.

  “I, well…enough about that for now. Here come the others.”

  The room soon filled up, and the rest of the meal was a blur of faces, introductions, and answering questions about writing, until the meal was over. One of the employees got up, did a welcome talk, and made a few announcements. Cassie felt a bit like an intruder who stumbled into their separate and unique world, a place where people with real talent were allowed to dwell.

  Conversation wound down as they finished dessert, and Cassie saw April’s attention diverted to something outside in the garden. She followed her gaze, but could see nothing of interest. “April, I’m ready if you are.”

  “What? Oh, okay, we can start with the archive room where we will be working if you like.” April bounced up from her chair ready to go.

  “Yes, thank you, but I was wondering if we could take a short walk outside first. I need to wake up a bit. I think jet lag is hitting me.”

  They walked out into the garden area, and Cassie found herself looking for the flash of white again.

  “April, are there other families around here?”

  “No, not close by anyway. There was a school here for some years, but it closed in 1966, I think. The monastery owned all this property as far as you can see, and as far as I know it was all sold to the people who own the retreat center. Well, most of the property was and now they are trying to buy the rest from the church. The next house is miles away.”

  “I thought I saw someone, something running in the garden today and thought
maybe it was a child playing.” Cassie stopped and looked into the tree line ahead but saw nothing.

  “A child, did you say?”

  “Well it could have been or maybe it is the jet lag. It was just a flash of white through the trees, like someone in a white dress running along. Maybe I dreamed it. I fell asleep on the balcony. Well, on to the archive room, April.”

  April led her around to the side of one wing of the building and back through another entrance to show her where she could come and go to get outside faster.

  April pointed things out as they walked. “This door here used to be the entrance for the servants and workman when the castle was built. Over there the blacksmith shop, and farther on, there was an area for the horses and such.”

  “I can’t imagine how many people it took to keep a castle going.” Cassie stopped to take it all in.

  “This is the entrance you need to use to get outside from your room if you ever just want to get out and walk. Be careful. The door is heavy, and they put automatic locks on the doors so once closed you can’t get back in without the key. I will need to get you a key to that door if you want to use this entrance.”

  “Gosh, keys for everything.” Cassie fell in behind April as she led her up a narrow back hall and smaller staircase to the second floor.

  “Your room is almost on top of the archives so it will be convenient. You can come down and work when you like as it is not locked. My room is down this hall at the end, so I am not too far from you if you need me. We are the only two live-in employees for the rest of the season except for the directors, managers, and Bernadette. The cook, cleaners, and all the others come and go. Maybe you would rather be with the other writers doing their retreat?”

  “Oh no, I don’t think so. I’m an employee like the rest, and I’m fine with the arrangements.”

  “I am so happy you are over here in this wing with me, Cassie. If you don’t mind me saying so, you have the look of the Irish on you, the auburn hair and those green eyes. But you missed the freckles, aren’t you lucky?”

  “Most of the freckles faded as I got older.”

  April pointed to her room as they walked on toward the library and archive area. “The collection they have here is amazing.” April held the door open for Cassie.

  “Yes, it is very impressive. These stained-glass panels in the doors are amazing and look new.” Cassie walked inside and thought it looked more like a public library. There were tables and chairs, comfortable reading chairs and lamps all around. There was row after row of books and old hand-bound manuscripts. Maps of Ireland and England both ancient and modern, decorated the walls. Pictures of several popes hung inside the entrance doors. She had not expected anything so elaborate.

  “In the back there is the office where you will find a computer, telephone and a fax machine. If you use either, you must log it in on the book, but they don’t mind if you use them.”

  “How do you like it here, April?”

  “It suits me fine. I get to earn money, the work is not hard, and it gets me away from my family in Dublin for the summer. I like working in the archives to learn about the history of the castle and the monastery and all the girls who were students and lived here for so many years.”

  After they finished their tour of the area, she followed April down the hall to see her room. “April, I appreciate the information and the tour. I have a million questions, but suppose it’s time to get organized. I’ll work on the teaching plan and see how much work we need to do to get the class ready and we can talk about it tomorrow and come up with a workable plan. I hope my agreement to teach this beginning fiction writers’ class is not over my head.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll be brilliant. I’ll help you in any way I can. If you need me just call. The house telephone is easy. Your room number is your phone number. My number is 201.”

  “Thanks, and I’ll try not to bother you at least for a few hours. But I’ll see you later for dinner.”

  Cassie’s first class started in three days. Even if it turned out to be more work than she thought, it was still a good bargain for her room and board at the retreat center. There were ten people enrolled in her workshop and she thought she could manage ten without too much stress. She walked out onto the balcony and surveyed the landscape again. It was obvious someone worked hard to keep it neat and attractive. Her view was limited due to the structure of the old castle walls. The adjoining wall jutted out and partially obscured her view. If she leaned over the balcony she could see the old turrets and scroll work above. She leaned out now and was rewarded with a dizziness so severe it made her sit down on the balcony floor. So much for admiring the view.

  Cassie made progress on notes for her class but found her thoughts going back to Jacob Sullivan and that brilliant smile, intense blue eyes, and wheat-colored hair, a little too long in back. Stop it Cassie. You will not think of him, you will not. You are here to work and here to write.

  Chapter 2

  By the time April came to get her for the evening meal, Cassie was satisfied with the good progress on her class plan. She was feeling more confident she could do the job.

  “April, what’s the process for getting a car if I wanted to go into the village tomorrow?”

  “You just have to go see Ida. She’s in charge of the cars and she will give you the keys. You just need to tell her where you are going and sign in and out. There is a small fee for gas.”

  “How far is it to the village?”

  “The village is about nine miles and there are only three turns. I can show you on the map after dinner because there are no road signs. There are meant to be signs, of course, but the boys in the village take them down for fun.”

  “I was in a fog of tiredness during my trip from the airport to here, and I am not sure I could get back to Dublin, but maybe I can find the village. Do I ask for the car tonight?”

  “No need; they have ten cars.”

  “Wow, a lot of cars; and this is a huge place for so few people. No wonder they need to generate income to keep it going. It must take thousands just to heat and cool it.”

  “They shut down the original section where our rooms are in the winter months to save money. They keep a small heating unit in the archive area, but other areas are kept just warm enough to keep the pipes from freezing in the winter. It’s pretty spooky over there in the winter since there is even less light than there is now. I spent Christmas here one year when I was younger when it was still owned by the monastery. They opened it only for special community events back then. The Sisters closed the actual monastery school operations many years before my time.”

  “It must have been a magical place for a young girl.”

  “It was magical for a child, and I wanted to explore it all. But one of the Sisters kept a close eye on me and they told me if I ventured too far into the old side I might get lost and never be heard from again.”

  “What is a terrible thing to tell a young person.”

  “I think she made up the scary story so I’d stay put and out of trouble.”

  “What kind of story?”

  “She said at night the ghost of a young girl roamed the monastery, well the castle area, where we are, looking for her missing sister. Then, one night I dreamed about a little girl dressed in a white nightgown roaming the halls. I stopped wandering around so much after that.”

  “Yes, I can see how you might think twice.”

  “My granny used to say the spirits visit you in your dreams. She said the spirits and fairies will only come if you believe, though.”

  “We will have to compare notes sometime. I’m always looking for story ideas.”

  They went into the dining room and Cassie saw Jacob standing near the beverage center talking to a few guests, his aunt, and a priest. She felt her stomach do a little flip and she headed in the opposite direction. She silently repeated her mantra…don’t need a man to complicate things now.

  Cassie and April sat down at the table in
the back of the room and when she dared a look in Jacob’s direction, her heart skipped a beat. He was coming toward her. There was nothing she could do about it, and in the next second, he was there looming over her. She struggled to catch her breath.

  “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Of course not, nice to see you again, Jacob, please sit.”

  “I’ll get the tea.” April stood and Cassie saw her try to hide a smile.

  “I was hoping we could talk about your book idea. I am suffering from a horrible writer’s block and I need someone to inspire me.”

  “I’m still in the earliest stages of trying to figure out what I am going to write about, so I don’t think I would be much of an inspiration for you, Jacob.”

  “It’s just so nice to be around other writers. That in itself is inspirational. What did you do back in America, in the South, I believe my aunt said it was?”

  “I was a senior editor at a publishing company in Atlanta, Georgia. I worked mostly with non-fiction books and such, very boring sometimes. I have done some columns and articles and a few short stories, but this will be my first fiction book. Well, my second one, to be honest, but the first one is still not edited and may never be. It was my learn-how-to-write book, I think.”

  “Ah, yes, the old book-in-the-drawer. I have more than one. Ireland is such a great place to write though so I have no excuse. There is pain, agony, suffering, legends, myths, and magic around every corner.”

  “I notice you left out love.” Cassie could not believe the words came out of her mouth. She didn’t flirt, ever. Must be the jet lag.

  “Well, Cassie, the Irish don’t do so well with love. They can sing about it and write about it, but they often don’t know what to do with it.”

  “You are smiling, but your eyes are not…bad breakup?”

  “Does anyone ever escape at least one bad breakup?”

  “So true, and I’m sorry. Forgive me for asking personal questions; again, I plead jet lag.” Cassie took a sip of water and tried to think of some way to change the subject. April’s arrival with their coffee and tea saved her the trouble.