Three Graces

by Victoria Connelly

  ‘It was simply another door slamming. Doors slam. It happens every day.’

  ‘Not in this house,’ Carys interrupted. ‘Doors as heavy as ours don’t just slam.’

  ‘Then somebody slammed them,’ Natasha said as if she was talking to a group of backward children.

  ‘The same person who slammed this door just a few seconds ago?’ Carys challenged. ‘Because I can tell you that it would be impossible for somebody to get to the other side of this room in that time without climbing out of a window and running round the house which we would have seen from the window here and would have taken too long anyway.’

  Natasha sighed in exasperation. ‘Then you must have two door-slammers in your employment.’

  Carys frowned in bemusement. ‘I don’t recall seeing Door Slammers on the Amberley payroll,’ she joked, again, causing laughter.

  ‘And it has gone rather cold in here, hasn’t it?’ the young woman said.

  ‘That’s a myth,’ Natasha countered. ‘You’re merely imagining things.’

  ‘Look, lady,’ a burly man in his thirties stepped forward, frowning at Natasha, ‘I don’t know why you came on this tour if you’re such a sceptic but you’re spoiling things for the rest of us so I, for one, would be grateful if you’d keep your thoughts to yourself.’

  Carys tried to hide a little smile as Natasha’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Hear hear,’ somebody else said.

  ‘Shall we go on with the tour?’ Carys suggested, opening the door which had slammed first and leading them through to the Dining Room. Natasha was the last to leave the Montella Room and, as she entered the Dining Room, Carys noticed that she had turned a peculiar shade of white.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Carys asked.

  ‘Y-yes. Perfectly,’ Natasha said, clearing her throat.

  The rest of the tour group turned to look at her.

  ‘Because you look awfully pale.’

  ‘I assure you, I’m perfectly fine.’

  ‘Good,’ Carys said, her eyes quickly darting into the vacated Montella Room where she saw the faintest hint of a blue mist.

  ‘There are four dining rooms at Amberley and this is the one used to entertain important guests. The Cuthland family have always been great supporters of the arts and Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor have dined in this room as have the playwrights Oscar Wilde and Arthur Miller. But, perhaps the most famous diner here was Queen Victoria.’

  ‘WHAT?’

  Everyone turned to face Natasha who had blurted out the strange exclamation.

  ‘Queen Victoria,’ Carys repeated.

  ‘What was that?’ Natasha asked, looking round.

  ‘What was what?’

  ‘That - just now! I felt a hand on my shoulder. Somebody squeezed my shoulder!’

  ‘It wasn’t me, love,’ the burly man said.

  There was a ripple of laughter but Natasha wasn’t joining in.

  ‘But there’s nobody behind you,’ Carys pointed out. ‘Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?’

  ‘I did NOT imagine it,’ she said, her head shaking furiously.

  ‘It’s her,’ the young woman said.

  ‘Will you stop talking nonsense?’ Natasha exploded.

  ‘Er - ladies and gentlemen,’ Carys said, raising her hands in a bid for calm, ‘I think we should, perhaps, move on, don’t you?’

  They left the Dining Room and Carys took them through one of the old servants’ passageways and into what Georgiana had described as the bowels of Amberley.

  ‘Now that’s what I call a drop in temperature,’ somebody said.

  ‘These passageways are no longer used, as we - thankfully - have modern kitchens upstairs now, but they would have been teeming with life not so long ago,’ Carys said, careful to avoid naming any dates she couldn’t be sure of. Long ago and in the past seemed to be enough historical accuracy.

  ‘So your own staff don’t come down here?’ somebody asked.

  ‘Just to keep things clean,’ Carys said. ‘But, personally, I prefer to be upstairs. It is a little spooky, don’t you think?’

  Right on queue, the sound of footsteps was heard from further along the passageway.

  Carys frowned.

  ‘What’s that?’ somebody asked. ‘I can hear footsteps.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Who is it?’

  Fifteen pairs of eyes turned to Carys for an answer.

  ‘Well,’ Carys said, ‘there shouldn’t be anyone else down here except us.’ She glanced quickly at Natasha, half-expecting her to say something sarcastic, but she was looking as spooked as everybody else.

  ‘They’ve stopped,’ somebody said.

  Carys took a deep breath. ‘We have to go this way anyway, so we’d better take a look.’

  Now, there were fifteen pairs of feet echoing down the passageway and it became impossible to hear anything else. Carys led the way, turning left into one of the old kitchens where there was a large table and an ancient range. And then Carys began.

  ‘When I first came to Amberley, I didn’t think to venture downstairs to these rooms. To be honest, I had no idea they were here. But, I was later told about a young kitchen maid who used to work here,’ Carys said, repeating the story that Mrs Travis had recently told her. ‘Her name was Martha and she fell in love with one of the stable boys. It was in the days when it was strictly forbidden for members of staff to form relationships with each other but she didn’t heed the warnings from her colleagues and was found, one night, in the stable boy’s quarters.’

  There was a collective gasp from the tour group and a few giggles too.

  ‘Both were dismissed and it was later heard that Martha lost the baby that was conceived at Amberley and died shortly after herself, and some believe that she haunts these kitchens to this day, crying for her baby and her lost love.’

  There was a sad and stony silence.

  ‘That’s so heartbreaking ,’ one of the ladies said at last.

  Natasha, who was stood at the back of the tour group, nearest the door to the passageway, suddenly turned white.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Carys asked.

  ‘Y-yes,’ Natasha stuttered.

  ‘Did you hear something? I thought I heard something,’ the young woman said, turning to Natasha. ‘A - a - crying.’

  ‘I didn’t hear anything,’ the burly man said.

  ‘Neither did I,’ another lady said, frowning in frustration.

  Carys kept her eye on Natasha. ‘Did you hear something?’

  ‘N-no, of course I didn’t. What’s there to hear?’

  ‘I could’ve sworn-’ the young lady said.

  ‘Shush!’ the burly man said. And everybody listened in silence. But there was nothing but silence to hear.

  Suddenly, Natasha shivered.

  ‘I felt that too,’ the young woman said. ‘It came from somewhere over there.’ She pointed to the end of the passageway.

  Everybody moved out into the passageway but there wasn’t anything to see, hear or feel any more.

  ‘Onwards and upwards,’ Carys said, leading them down the passageway until they came to a door which led to a staircase at the back of the house. This was one of the servants’ routes to the bedrooms, Carys explained, reminding them that servants were expected to do their work almost invisibly.

  ‘Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of quite so many staff as the Bretton family once did.’

  Carys led them across a landing and up another staircase before entering the Long Gallery and was delighted to hear low murmurs of appreciation at its grandiose beauty.

  ‘This is the Long Gallery,’ Carys began, ‘It used to be used for walking in on a winter’s day and dancing in on a summer’s evening,’ she continued, using the same words that Richard had when he’d shown her around that day which now seemed so long ago. ‘Obviously, it’s used as a library now.’

  ‘How many books are there?’ a young man asked.

  ‘Fifteen thousand,’ C
arys said, thrilled at the ease at which she could answer such questions.

  ‘This is part of the regular tour, isn’t it?’ Natasha said, obviously regaining some of her earlier impudence, having forgotten her fright downstairs.

  ‘It is, yes. After all, it is one of Amberley’s finest rooms. But you’ll notice we have it to ourselves today. Please feel free to wander around but I would ask you not to take the books down from the shelves as they’re very fragile.’

  Carys watched as the group broke up and wandered around the room at their own pace. Some gazed up at the fine plaster ceiling, some walked over to the windows to look out across the gardens and one stood awkwardly alone pretending to peer at the spines of books whilst reaching for something in a pocket. Could it be a hidden notebook and pen, Carys wondered?

  ‘Find anything interesting?’ Carys dared to ask.

  Natasha looked up from the shelves and shook her head.

  Gosh, Carys thought, it really was an appalling disguise. Hadn’t she noticed that her red hair was peeping out from under the grey wig?

  Carys stared at her for a moment. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘I’m sure we’ve met before, haven’t we?’

  Natasha looked dumbstruck for a moment. ‘I’m sure we haven’t.’

  ‘You haven’t visited Amberley before?’

  ‘No. Never,’ Natasha said, quickly and unpleasantly.

  ‘It’s just you look so familiar but, then again, I do see so many people, I could be mistaken.’ Carys smiled sweetly and turned to join a couple by the window. No sooner had she joined them than there was a loud thud. Carys spun around and saw a large leather-bound book on the floor by Natasha’s feet.

  ‘I - er - didn’t touch it.’

  Carys frowned. ‘It’s very important that you don’t handle the books.’

  ‘I said, I didn’t touch it.’

  The burly man stepped forward. ‘There’s one on the floor,’ he said.

  ‘I know there’s one on the floor, you great oaf, but it wasn’t put there by me.’

  There was a moment of frosty silence and then everybody began to speak at once.

  ‘It’s her! She’s back - The Blue Lady.’

  ‘Look, lady, I’ve just about had enough of you ruining our tour.’

  ‘What would I want with these useless books? They’re not worth the paper they’re printed on.’

  ‘These are valuable heirlooms and you have to respect them.’

  ‘I’ve never met such a rude lady.’

  ‘I’ve never been so insulted in my life,’ Natasha said, her voice rising angrily above everyone else’s. ‘There’s something going on here. I’ve been the victim of some trick and I intend to find out exactly what.’ And, with that, she strode out of the room. The rest of the tour group stared in wide-eyed disbelief, their mouths dropping open as they heard a series of screams coming from the direction in which she’d gone.

  ‘What an extraordinary lady,’ Carys said.

  ‘Thank goodness she’s gone,’ the burly man said. ‘I thought I was going to have to knock her for six.’

  ‘So did I,’ Carys said, and everybody laughed. ‘Right, shall we continue?’

  Twenty minutes later, the tour had ended and everybody agreed it had been a stunning success and promised to tell all their friends and family.

  As Carys stood by the front porch, waving goodbye to everyone, she knew Roberta would be in the middle of the second tour and that she herself had a good long break until the next one that afternoon. She smiled to herself. Even with the intrusion of Natasha, it had all gone far more smoothly than she could ever have hoped and this gave her a glow of confidence. She was actually looking forward to the next tour group.

  ‘And so you should.’

  Carys did a double take as she walked into her office a moment later. ‘What?’ she asked.

  ‘Feel proud of yourself,’ Georgiana said, drifting out of her blue haze and settling into the armchair by the fireplace.

  ‘My goodness,’ Carys flopped into the chair next to Georgiana’s. She didn’t feel like sitting at her desk. ‘I can’t thank you enough for what you did.’

  ‘What did I do?’ Georgiana asked.

  Carys grinned. ‘You know what you did.’

  ‘What?’ Georgiana looked puzzled. ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about.’

  Carys frowned. ‘On the tour,’ she said. ‘With Natasha - like we agreed.’

  Georgiana looked at Carys for a moment, her eyes vague and uncomprehending. ‘Carys - I do not know what you mean.’

  ‘Rubbish! That was you, wasn’t it?’

  There was a moment of silence when the two women just stared at one another. And then Georgiana burst out laughing.

  ‘You rotten thing!’ Carys said. ‘You had me going there for a moment.’

  ‘You should have seen your face,’ Georgiana laughed. ‘What a picture.’

  ‘Don’t ever do that again. I thought we had another ghost to contend with.’

  ‘Heaven forbid.’

  Carys sighed and shook her head, and then she bit her lip. ‘You don’t think things will backfire with Natasha, do you?’

  ‘I don’t think you need to worry about her any more She’s learnt her lesson.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  Georgiana nodded. ‘I must say that I was a little concerned with that young woman in the white trousers. She seemed very in tune with the spirit world. I felt sure she was going to spot me.’

  ‘I did too. She was definitely on to you.’

  ‘Good publicity, though.’

  ‘And everybody went away delighted in the belief that they witnessed something ghostly.’

  ‘They did!’ Georgiana said. ‘Now,’ she said, getting up. ‘I suppose I should make my presence felt on the next tour.’

  Carys looked a little apprehensive. ‘Don’t go over-the-top,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you terrifying Roberta. Remember, she has no idea that there really is a ghost at Amberley.’

  Georgiana gave a winsome smile. ‘You can rely on me,’ she said, and Carys watched as she vanished in her blue mist to cause magic and mayhem amongst the next Amberley tour group.

  Chapter 27

  Carys was just getting into her stride on her second and last tour of the day when Richard charged through the Montella Room at great speed.

  ‘Carys!’ he yelled across the room, interrupting her in mid-spiel.

  ‘Richard?’ She turned round to face him and immediately saw that something was wrong - horribly wrong.

  ‘Carys,’ he repeated, waving something at her. Her eyes widened in horror. It was the newspaper.

  She gave him a pleading look, and raised her hand to acknowledge the tour group. Had he not seen them?

  ‘I need to speak to you,’ he said, disappearing into the next room and not even giving her the chance to object.

  She turned to her tour group and bit her lip. She’d planned for all sorts of unexpected occurrences on the tour: what to do if the fire alarm went off and how to cope with breakages, but nothing had prepared her for being interrupted by an irate husband.

  ‘I’m afraid something’s come up,’ she said. ‘If you’ll bear with me a moment, and - er - please feel free to look around.’ She cast her eyes around the Montella Room. They’d be quite safe there, she thought. They weren’t likely to start taking the portraits off the walls, were they?

  She took a deep breath and left the room.

  ‘Richard,’ she said in a hushed voice once she’d closed the door behind them both. ‘I’m in the middle of a tour. Can’t this wait?’

  ‘No, it can’t,’ he said. His face was an angry shade of red which was most unbecoming. ‘I suppose you’ve seen this?’ He flung the newspaper at her unceremoniously.

  Having no choice, Carys took it from him. There was no point trying to feign ignorance. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen it.’

  ‘Somebody left it in the office and I was idly flicking through whilst
on the telephone. You see, I’d already read it here, hadn’t I? In the privacy of my own home. Yet I hadn’t seen this page before. Now, forgive me, but I’m sure I’d have remembered a picture of my wife in the newspaper.’

  Carys sighed. So much for Mrs Travis’s attempt at sabotage. ‘I can explain,’ she said but she didn’t think she was going to be given the chance.

  ‘This is getting to be a regular occurrence, isn’t it?’

  Carys flapped her hands, doing her best to calm him down. ‘Richard - shush! They’ll hear you next door.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn if they hear me.’

  ‘You’re not making any sense. You’re blaming me for something that was completely out of my control and yet you’re making a complete fool of yourself in front of my tour group.’

  ‘What?’ he stared at her and, for one awful moment, she didn’t recognise him at all. Who was this rage-ridden man standing before her? He was wearing the same checked shirt and slightly faded trousers as usual but, other than that, he seemed a stranger to her.

  ‘My ghost tour. Remember? I told you about it and you gave it the go ahead.’

  He shook his head as if he’d never heard of such nonsense before.

  ‘I’m doing this for you - for Amberley,’ she continued, ‘but I don’t seem to be getting any support.’ Carys could feel her heart hammering inside her chest. They didn’t seem to be communicating at all and this knowledge made her feel very uneasy.

  ‘I have to go,’ Richard said dismissively.

  ‘And so do I,’ Carys said, angry that Richard should suggest that he had somewhere else he should be and something more important he should be doing. Well, so did she.

  ‘We’ll talk about this later,’ he said, his back towards her.

  For a moment, she watched him go. She had no doubt whatsoever that he’d be raising this issue with her again but the thing that filled her with the most dread was the fact that she didn’t want to be around to hear it.

  She returned to the Montella Room and was aghast at the fifteen faces that turned towards her as she entered. From their expressions, she knew that they had heard every single word.

  Carys cleared her throat. ‘I - er…’

  ‘If you don’t mind me saying, love,’ a little old lady in a pink hat said, ‘that was completely over the top - I mean the way your husband reacted.’