by Anya Wylde
"Is that for me?" Lucy asked in a small voice.
The cook grunted and turned back to poke the fire. Rose, too, ignored Lucy, choosing to pummel the dough instead.
Now that no one was looking at her, Lucy's back straightened and the pained, pinched look vanished from her eyes. She gleefully picked up the meat pie and pretending not to hear the cook's shout to take the bread instead bounded back to her room.
Once inside she pulled out a dark blue shawl and laid it on the floor. She put a small cushion, a thin grey quilt and the meat pie on top of the shawl and tied it all together. Throwing the bundle over her shoulder, she slithered out of her room.
The family was busy eating dinner and the servants busy serving them, which was why Lucy was able to stroll across the hallway and into Lady Sedley's rooms without being seen by a single soul.
Lady Sedley's room was impressively large … and cold, Lucy added to herself, as a thin worm like fog escaped her mouth.
She craned her neck. The ceiling was high with a large damp patch in the shape of a broom adorning the centre.
Massaging the muscles in the back of her neck, she eyed the dull rose curtains speculatively. They seemed thick, broad and long enough to conceal a person effectively. She pushed them aside and was disappointed to find no bay window.
She turned back towards the room.
The carpet matched the curtains. They, too, were a dull rose colour patterned with soft green leaves.
She moved closer to the long fragile dressing table placed in the corner. A tallow, burning in a long silver candlestick placed in the centre of it, illuminated the various thingamabobs lying on the table.
She peered at the glittering pearl comb, sniffed a pot of rouge and frowned at a glass bottle labelled ‘Moonlit Drops’.
She reluctantly put the pomatum for unruly hair back on the table and turned her attention towards the large four poster bed.
She paled. And it wasn't the pastel pillows and lacy cushions sitting uncomfortably atop a somewhat masculine looking bed that sucked all the air out of her.
No, it was a sharp faced woman wearing an old fashioned ball gown and a towering powdered wig hovering three and half feet over the bed that petrified her.
"My dear, Miss Trotter," Aunt Sedley said in ghostly sarcasm, "can it be that you are frightened yet again? I thought we went through this business the last time."
"Glug," Lucy managed.
Aunt Sedley lay down in mid-air and rested her chin on her palms. "Oh, smooth your hair. I don't like seeing it wave at the roof. It makes you look eerie."
Lucy grabbed her terrified hair and forced it back into a bun.
"Better," Aunt Sedley commented. "Now, how far have you progressed in your investigations?"
"Glug."
Aunt Sedley snapped her fingers. "I don't have the luxury to hover until you get over your unreasonable fear, girl. Now, form coherent sentences and tell me your plan."
"I followed Lady Sedley this afternoon," Lucy wheezed out. She was still reeling from the ghostly vision, and the sound of her own voice surprised her so much that she was spooked into silence once again.
"You followed her and … what did you see?" Aunt Sedley asked in a gentler, more encouraging tone.
A deep steadying breath later, Lucy blurted out, "She met Peter near the old stables, and from the conversation I gathered that she and Peter were innocent. She thinks it could be one of her other children who have killed Lord Sedley."
Aunt Sedley rolled on her back and produced a ghostly cigar. "Then what, pray tell, my lovely child, are you doing in Lady Sedley's room. Didn’t you cross her off your suspects list?"
Lucy shook her head. "What if she knew that I had been following her? Lord Adair said that Peter saw me. What if they staged the entire conversation for my benefit?"
Aunt Sedley blew rings of green smoke. "Aren't you a clever thing?"
Feeling braver, Lucy said, "My plan is simple. I am going to hide under the bed and wait for Lady Sedley to spill all her secrets in the arms of the valet."
Aunt Sedley nodded appreciatively. "If not a confession, then Margaret may let slip a few clues under the valet's adventurous fingertips."
Lucy blushed.
Aunt Sedley rolled back over and waved the cigar in her direction. "Move, Miss Trotter. Go on … get under the bed. Stop mooning about."
Lucy opened her bundle and unpacked the things. She wriggled under the bed and lay down on the blue shawl. The quilt kept her warm, while the cushion went under her head.
Aunt Sedley's head detached itself from its body and appeared next to Lucy.
Lucy reeled back startled by the disembodied head hovering next to her.
Aunt Sedley didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. She calmly inspected Lucy's handiwork and nodded her ghostly head in satisfaction.
"The bed has plenty of room underneath," Aunt Sedley said. "It is a tad dusty though. Eat your meat pie. I will float around and keep you company. I always hated eating alone when I was alive. It made me feel most depressed.
Lucy obediently bit into the pie. It was delicious.
"You have a crumb on your chin," Aunt Sedley pointed out.
Lucy wiped it off. "How is it that you don't know who killed your brother? Didn’t you ask him?
"He said he was asleep when he was attacked. By the time he came awake, he had already been stabbed and his assailant had disappeared. Then he died."
"Well, didn’t you see the murderer?"
"I am not omnipresent, idiot. I was asleep at the time."
Lucy chewed thoughtfully. "Do all spirits sleep during the day?"
"No, we prefer the sunlight. As you can tell," Aunt Sedley said producing her disembodied arm and waving it in front of Lucy's horrified face, “we are almost transparent and the sunlight makes us completely invisible. Also the heat of the sun negates the coldness humans feel in our presence, which is why most ghosts prefer roaming around in the daylight."
"So I could be sharing a bench with a ghost during the day and I wouldn’t know it?"
"Precisely … or many ghosts. Some of them do like to huddle together."
"But then why were you asleep when the murder occurred? It happened during the day."
"Because ghosts that want to scare people sleep during the day and wake during the night. I had to change my hours because of Margaret. I was keeping an eye on her every night, trying to frighten her away from the valet … for Roo Roo's sake."
"Thank you for explaining."
Aunt Sedley's hand detached itself from her body and flew over to affectionately pat Lucy on the head.
Lucy's facial muscles froze in fright. She didn’t dare twitch during the entire patting process.
Aunt Sedley screwed her head and arm back onto her hovering body and floated up and towards the door, "Now, I am going to go and listen in on the conversation in the dining room. I will be back … back … back."
Aunt Sedley faded away, and with her departure heat whizzed back into the room. But it wasn't enough. Lucy's fingers remained icy and fearful. She rubbed her palms together and blew on it.
Her heart was still racing.
Aunt Sedley was a ghost.
She truly existed.
It had not been a dream.
Belatedly, Lucy pulled the quilt up and over her head in fright.
Do not think about it she firmly told herself. Stop trembling she ordered her hands. Perhaps she had fallen asleep while waiting for Lady Sedley, she consoled her terrified mind. It had all been a dream.
She pinched herself and yelped. She was awake. She was not asleep and had not been asleep.
A ghost had truly spoken to her.
She popped her head out from under the quilt, but her eyes remained squeezed shut. She would panic later after this entire ordeal was over. After the murderer was found.
For the moment she must focus on the task at hand. All she had to do was stay quiet, be patient and listen hard.
An hour
later she was still quiet, being patient and listening hard, and with every passing moment fear seeped out of her skin replaced by calmness and finally boredom.
Every sound was amplified in the silence. The howl of a dog outside, a wife chasing a husband around in the village, and footsteps padding along in the corridors...
Footsteps in the corridor? Lucy arose from the depths of ghastly boredom, her ears twitching in anticipation.
Sure enough feminine feet entered the room.
Lucy deflated.
The feet were clad in sensible black shoes, the bottom of the skirts were dull and grey, but most importantly the creature was whistling.
Ladies did not whistle.
It was a blasted maid who had come in to light a fire.
The maid soon departed and boredom skipped back into the room.
The fire roared, and Lucy watched the dancing flames until her eyes began to droop.
Chapter 18
The sun was running around in circles in the sky and Lucy was deliciously baking in the hot sand. The cool water of the sea occasionally came over to give her toes a playful lick, while twelve fairies fluttered about her holding golden plates laden with fruits, ices and cold meats.
It was a beautiful little spot far away from noise and chaos. A tiny little paradise that was wrenched away from time and hurled atop a happy little cloud that lazily drifted along the cornflower blue sky.
The sun smiled widely increasing the temperature by a few more comfortable degrees. She rolled over drowsily and each and every sand particle surrounding her rolled over as well. The clean dry sand was now facing upwards and sparkling like new.
It was self-refreshing bed, an ingenious product created by dreamland.
She smiled contently and reached for one of the colourful drinks knocking against each other above her head.
The crystal glasses clinked and clanked together making beautiful music while the vibrant coloured liquids in the glass bubbled and twinkled in the golden light.
Her hand curled around a sapphire hued drink, but before she could taste it a horrifying screech pierced the air.
The fairies flew away, the clouds rushed to cover the sun, and the happy little cloud disintegrated.
She woke with a soft annoyed snort and rubbed her crusty eyes.
There was barely any light wherever she was … and she was lying on something hard.
She blinked away the sleep wondering if she had nodded off in Miss Summer's downstairs cupboard with yet another stolen rice pudding.
It was another few moments before she came fully awake and recalled where she was. Under Lady Sedley's bed.
And she was no longer alone. Someone else was in the room with her.
Her heart started beating loudly as the familiar sounds of someone getting ready for bed reached her ears.
Small delicate feet clad in white satin slippers neared the bed.
That, Lucy thought, had to be Lady Sedley.
"Get the robe or I will fling you out of the window," screeched a girlish voice.
That, Lucy nodded, was definitely Lady Sedley.
The ghost of Aunt Sedley manifested itself next to Lucy's head and put a translucent finger to her lips in warning.
Lucy gulped. She was beginning to feel like a tightly corked bottle of champagne that had just been shaken.
She willed herself to breathe slowly and softly.
Lucy willed and willed and willed. She tried to let not one breath escape that was too loud, too wheezy or too gaspy. But as it often happens, trying to breathe softly or not breathe at all makes one want to open their mouth and gulp in air as if they were drowning.
Lucy was drowning, and before she knew it she was also panting.
And she was not the only one who was panting. She had been so focussed on the satin clad feet that she had failed to notice the two pugs that had sneaked into the room behind Lady Sedley.
The pugs now moved their heads from side to side, no doubt wondering why in the world a human being was lying under the bed and not on top of it.
They spotted Aunt Sedley's disembodied head floating next to Lucy's right ear and their short little tails immediately drooped, their fur stood up straight and their tongues retreated back into their mouths. The pugs now looked like confused miniature lions.
"Maggie, darling." The valet entered the room.
"I have been waiting," Lady Sedley breathed huskily.
The sounds of kissing and sighs reached Lucy's ears, and she wished she could see what was going on.
"The funeral is over," Lady Sedley was saying. "It is a pity I have to wear black for the next one year."
"I adore you in black," the valet whispered.
Lucy nervously bit her lip. The pugs' tails had lifted straight up and their squashed noses were quivering.
"Oh, don't," the valet squealed.
"What is it, Pookey?" Lady Sedley crooned.
"I have a thing here," the valet muttered.
"A thing?"
"You know what I mean," he replied sulkily.
"Oh, you mean the wart on your buttock?" Lady Sedley breathed lustily.
Lucy soundlessly slapped her head. This she did not want to hear.
Aunt Sedley shoved a finger in each year and whizzed out of the room, her ghostly cheeks glowing in the candle light.
The pugs brightened up.
"Yes," the valet snapped.
"But you went to see the physician. You said it would be fine today," Lady Sedley whined.
"Yes, well, things didn’t go well. He rubbed some odd smelling lotion and now …"
"Let me see," she begged.
"No," the valet growled.
"Let me," Lady Sedley giggled.
Lucy watched in horrified silence as two pairs of legs raced around the room. Soon the couple were bouncing on the bed as Lady Sedley tried to pull the valet's pants down to inspect his buttocks.
Meanwhile, the pugs appeared to be storing up a volcano of excitement as they looked from Lady Sedley and the valet fighting with a pair of breeches to Lucy peeking out from between shocked fingers.
"Finally," Lady Sedley crooned.
A brief silence followed this gesticulation.
"Well," the valet broke the silence.
"Yes, it is a funny thing," Lady Sedley said. "It has grown and now it is almost like a wrinkled red door knob. Something I would like to grab and pull—"
"No," the valet said hurriedly pulling on his breeches. "I think I will retire for the night. As you can see I am indisposed—"
"You do not approve of my new white silk chemise then?" Lady Sedley asked throatily.
Lucy twitched as a black silk robe pooled near her worried nose.
At the same time the pugs seemed to have realised that Lucy was surrounded by crumbs of meat pie. They started sniffing in delight.
The valet sucked in a breath of appreciation.
The pugs bent their front legs and raised up their behinds.
The valet stepped closer to Lady Sedley. "Perhaps if we are careful."
The volcano erupted, and two identical puppies pounced on Lucy in unrestrained rapture.
Lucy froze in horror while the pups tried to shove wet tongues into her ears.
"My love," the valet gasped.
Yap, yap, yap barked the pugs in a paroxysmal of delight.
Lucy softly moaned in despair and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she found the valet and Lady Sedley's face floating in front of her face.
"Out," they both snapped in unison.
Lucy crawled out on trembling legs.
"What were you doing?" Lady Sedley asked through clenched teeth.
"Looking for the pugs," Lucy blurted out.
"You must have been under the bed for some time, so why did you not alert me to your presence?"
Lucy looked away from the white silk chemise which was now forever burned into her mind. She did not know what to say.
Lady Sedley snat
ched the robe off the ground and slipped it on. She asked the valet to fetch Lord Adair and the rest of the family.
"I saw you romancing the valet," Lucy boldly threatened. "I will tell everyone about it."
"They are not going to believe you, young lady, not anymore."
Chapter 19
"This wicked girl was hiding under the bed, Lord Adair. Do you need any more proof that she is up to no good?" Lady Sedley asked, pawing at his beautifully cut blue velvet evening coat.
Aunt Sedley's spectre glided into the room and positioned itself behind Lord Adair. Her ghostly eyes twinkled at the sight of Lord Adair's firm behind, and she bobbed a little bit in admiration.
Lord Adair took out a cigar and lit it.
Lady Sedley bristled and pawed at the gilt button more insistently. "We are not safe with her in this house. We need to keep her away from the family."
He flicked an impersonal glance towards Lucy. "She cannot leave until I complete my investigations."
Elizabeth reared her head from a chair near Lady Sedley's bed. "But surely you can't mean that? Are we to keep a murderer and a thief loose in our home? What if she was prowling tonight with the intent of choosing her next victim?"
Lady Sedley squeaked and immediately wrapped herself around Lord Adair's arm in fright where she hung bubbling and spluttering like a dozen eggs frying in a hot pan.
Lord Adair ignored the parasite curled around his arm and using his left hand calmly extracted the cigar from between the fingers of his besmirched right hand. He took a small puff. "Miss Trotter, Miss Sedley is correct. This does not reflect well on your character."
Peter's long grey wool nightcap nodded in agreement.
Lucy's eyes flared in anger. Lord Adair knew she was trying to find the killer. How else was she supposed to discover anything if not by snooping? She hung her head pretending to be ashamed while calling Lord Adair an infernal scoundrel in her head.
"I say, what are we discussing?" Ian asked. He understood things late or not at all, and when he did understand anything, it was only half of it.
Aunt Sedley bobbed over and stuck her spirit fingers into Ian's ears and pretended to clean them out.