Evie's Ghost

by Helen Peters

  Mrs Hardwick’s eyes were still narrowed, but she took a step back, which seemed like a good sign.

  “And it’s over?”

  “I think so. And I didn’t want to miss any more work. I’m so sorry, especially since you’ve been so busy tonight.”

  “Hmm.” She still sounded sceptical.

  “I know I haven’t been the best housemaid so far,” I said in my humblest voice, “but I’m learning, and I really want to make a success of it. I’ll miss my breaks for as long as you like, and I promise I’ll work twice as hard from now on.”

  “You’ll need to,” she said, “if you want to be half as good as Polly.”

  “I know,” I said, surprised and pleased. “Polly is amazing.”

  It took me ages to get to sleep, and then my sleep was filled with horrible nightmares. Robbie and Sophia and Sir Henry and Mrs Hardwick and Jacob swirled through my dreams in increasingly terrifying scenarios. The worst one – the one that jolted me awake with a pounding heart at three in the morning – was the one in which I was dragged off to be hanged for sitting on Sir Henry Fane.

  I felt no better when I woke up. I probably would be hanged for that. Polly had told me an awful story yesterday about a twelve-year-old girl in the next town who was hanged for stealing a petticoat.

  Mrs Hardwick, carrying a breakfast tray into the servants’ hall, frowned at me. “You do look peaky.”

  I was surprised and touched. I couldn’t believe Mrs Hardwick was actually concerned about my well-being.

  “I hope you’re not infectious,” she said. “I don’t want you spreading anything to the rest of the staff.”

  Oh. Of course.

  “Miss Fane still locked in then?” asked George, looking at the tray.

  “She is,” said Mrs Hardwick in a tone that dared anybody to ask another question. “Take this to her room, Polly. And remember to lock the door when you come out.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said.

  Outside Sophia’s room, I set down the tray. Two new bolts had been fixed to the door.

  When I walked in, Sophia was sitting in a little chair drawn up to the window, scratching at the bottom pane with something she held in her right hand.

  “Miss Fane?”

  Sophia continued to scratch the glass. She was dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing last night. Her hair had come loose and sections of it tumbled down her back.

  I put the tray on the bedside table and walked towards her.

  There were three words etched on the window.

  Sophia Fane

  Imprisoned

  Sophia’s cheeks were white and there were purple shadows under her red-rimmed eyes. She looked blank and hollowed out.

  “Did you sleep at all?” I asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Were you writing on the glass all night?”

  “If I am to spend the rest of my life in this room, I want the people who live here after me to know that I was kept a prisoner by my own father. I want my name to be remembered, at least.”

  “Has your father said you’ll spend the rest of your life here?”

  “He has made that very clear. And better that than that I should betray my heart and marry a man I despise, in order that Charles Ellerdale should increase his estate and my father should get his hands on Ellerdale’s money. They can marry each other if they want to. I shall die here, alone.”

  “But what about Robbie? You can’t just give up on all your plans.”

  Sophia jumped to her feet, her dark eyes flashing. “Give up?” she said in a fierce whisper. “You speak as though I have a choice. Do you not think I would have bolted from the room the moment you opened the door, if it would not have put Robbie in mortal danger?”

  “Well, I—”

  “If I attempt to run away, my father will have Robbie hunted down and killed.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you wouldn’t give up on him.”

  Sophia looked at me and her stiffness softened slightly. “You came to the orchard last night. You tried to help. Thank you.”

  “Robbie is waiting for you,” I whispered. “He’s staying with a friend in the village, waiting for a message. As soon as you can come to him, he will be ready, and you can run away.”

  Sophia’s eyes, which had lit up with hope when I started to speak, now darkened again. “How can I go to him without being caught? Even if I could leave this room, how could I leave the house? Everywhere is locked at night, and in the daytime I could never leave unseen. It is impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible. We just haven’t come up with the right idea yet.”

  Sophia looked at me curiously. “Why are you so concerned for us, Evie?”

  It was a good question. It was just a shame that I couldn’t tell her the answer: that I was clinging on to the desperate hope that I had come into the past for a reason, and that once I had kept my promise to help Sophia, I would be able to return to my own time.

  And also, I knew what would happen if she didn’t escape. I knew that she was already pregnant and that, if she didn’t get out of here, her baby would be taken away from her as soon as it was born. I knew that her spirit was still not at peace, two hundred years after she was imprisoned. If I could help to reunite her with Robbie, then perhaps her ghost would finally be laid to rest.

  Sophia was looking at me, waiting for an answer.

  “It’s complicated,” I said.

  “You are a very unusual servant, Evie,” she said. “How old are you?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “You look older. I thought you were my age.”

  We did look about the same age. It was partly that I looked older than thirteen, and partly that Sophia looked younger than sixteen. This morning she looked even younger than usual, with her hair tumbling down her back. It was the same length as my hair, I realised. And exactly the same colour.

  We were the same height too. And the same build. Even our eyes were the same colour.

  My eyes opened very wide.

  What if…?

  Might it be possible?

  But when could we do it?

  It would have to be before the house was locked up for the night. But not in daylight.

  Dusk, then.

  A terrifying thought twisted my stomach into knots. Would I still be here at dusk?

  “Miss Fane,” I asked, “did your father mention me last night?”

  Sophia frowned. “You?”

  “Did he say he was going to sack me?”

  “Sack you?”

  “For sitting on him. Is he going to sack me for it?”

  “I have no idea what you are talking about,” she said. “What does this mean, to ‘sack’ you?”

  I almost growled in frustration. Yet another word that clearly wasn’t used that way in 1814.

  “Throw me out then,” I said. “Will he throw me out of the house?”

  “I cannot imagine,” she said, “that he has any recollection of you whatsoever.”

  Oh, please let that be true, I prayed. If I didn’t get sacked today, then my idea might just work. It was our best chance anyway.

  I mustn’t arouse suspicion by staying too long in her room. I would have to be quick.

  “Miss Fane,” I said, “I might have thought of a way to get you out. A way that will mean you won’t be seen leaving. Can I tell you my idea?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Escape

  At seven o’clock, carrying an empty chamber pot, I entered Sophia’s room.

  She was sitting at the window, staring at the darkening garden. She whipped her head round as I walked in. Her hair was wild and tangled, as though she had spent hours running her fingers through it. She jumped up from her chair.

  “Oh, Evie, you’re here! I was so frightened that something would prevent you from coming.”

  I looked at the pane of glass in the bottom left-hand corner of the window. It now said:

 
Sophia Fane

  Imprisoned here

  27th April 1814

  “We don’t have much time,” I said. “Mrs Hardwick has been watching me like a hawk all day. Betty’s just left. She’s going to tell Robbie to wait for you at the stile by the three elm trees in Church Meadow.”

  Sophia’s eyes lit up with excitement. “We shall walk overnight to Lower Mistleham, and from there we shall take the stagecoach to London. I have money in my pocket and Robbie has saved enough from his wages for the journey to Scotland and back. And when we return and set up home in London…” She lowered her voice. “I will sell my jewels.”

  “Your diamond ring?” I asked.

  “That, yes. But also—” She glanced across the room. “Guard the door.”

  I stood with my back against it. Sophia opened the bottom drawer of her desk and from under some sheets of paper pulled out a small hammer and a flat-ended metal tool.

  She walked to the bed and dropped to her knees on the carpet. She pushed the bed towards the wall. It was on castors and rolled back easily.

  She folded back the corner of the carpet. Then she took the metal tool and edged it under a nail in one of the floorboards. The board was shorter than the rest and the nails at each corner were very slightly raised.

  I watched as she levered up all four nails. Then she eased her fingertips into the gaps at either end and lifted the board away.

  Sitting snugly in the void between the joists was a wooden box, about the size of a large shoebox. Sophia set it on the floor, lifted the hinged lid and took out a bracelet: a row of blood-red rubies between two rows of glittering diamonds. She draped it over her wrist.

  “Wow,” I said. “That’s so beautiful.”

  Sophia smiled. “My grandmother gave it to me. Not my father’s mother. She was horrible. But my maternal grandmother was lovely. She left all her jewels to my mother, but when I was thirteen and she was dying, she summoned me to her bedside and gave me this bracelet. She told me not to tell a soul. ‘If you ever need money,’ she said, ‘sell this.’”

  “It’s amazing.”

  “I should have had my mother’s jewels too, of course, but they were put away until I was of age.” She gave a sad little laugh. “Now I shall never see them again.”

  Footsteps sounded outside. Sophia, still on her knees, pushed the bracelet under the folds of her dress and flipped the carpet back over the floorboards. I moved the bed into place and busied myself with smoothing the covers.

  The footsteps faded away down the corridor. Sophia slipped the bracelet into her pocket, pushed the bed aside and replaced the empty box between the joists. She repositioned the floorboard and hammered the nails in.

  “Right,” I said, moving the bed into place again. “We need to work fast.”

  “Unhook my buttons,” said Sophia. “Then I’ll do yours.”

  She talked to me in an excited whisper as I fumbled with the tiny satin-covered buttons down the back of her dress. “We shall change our names, of course, as soon as we are married. We shall sell the bracelet and rent a little house in London. And we shall use the rest of the money to campaign to end child labour and ensure that every child can go to school and learn to read and write.”

  “But how will you do that?” I asked.

  “Oh, we have many ideas. And we shall dedicate our whole lives to the campaign.” She was practically fizzing with excitement now. “When Robbie and I are together, there will be no end to the things we can accomplish.”

  I undid the final button. “Here, you do mine now.”

  “I have never unbuttoned a dress,” said Sophia, “except on my dolls.”

  I gaped at her in disbelief. Then I tried to rearrange my expression as though I thought it was normal for a sixteen-year-old girl never to have dressed or undressed herself.

  Sophia’s excitement had disappeared. She looked completely flat. “I suppose I should learn,” she said in a small voice. “Things will be different now.” She moved to the back of my dress and started unbuttoning it.

  I was suddenly filled with fear that she was about to change her mind.

  “How long will it take you to reach Gretna Green?” I asked, hoping to bring back her excitement.

  “At least two days, I think, from London.”

  “So I shall have to stay here for two days,” I said.

  She frowned in thought. “You will have to remain much longer than that. Once we are married, it will take at least two days to return to London. And we shan’t be safe while we are travelling. My father will be sure to send messages to all the coaching inns along the way. It will be at least a week until we are safely in lodgings under a different name.”

  A week? How would I stand being locked in this room, alone, for a whole week, worrying all the time that I might be found out?

  Then I realised what I was thinking and almost slapped myself for my stupidity. Because it wasn’t up to me, was it? I couldn’t decide how long I stayed in the past. If I could, the situation would be a lot less stressful.

  “A week is fine,” I said. “It will be a nice rest, sitting in a room all day. Better than emptying slops and scrubbing floors.”

  “There,” said Sophia, stepping away from me. “All done. Now let us change clothes.”

  Ten minutes later we stood facing each other. I couldn’t believe how luxurious Sophia’s silk gown felt after the coarse, itchy fabric of my maid’s outfit.

  She sat at her dressing table in my plain, ill-fitting dress and apron. “Now, Evie, take the pins out of my hair and brush it.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Brush your own hair!”

  Sophia looked shocked. “But my maid does my hair.”

  “Well, you don’t have a maid any more, remember? You are a maid now, so you’d better get used to it.” I pulled over a chair and sat next to her. “Shove up. I need to look in the mirror too.”

  Wordlessly, Sophia shoved up. I undid my bun and took one of the ebony-backed hairbrushes off the dressing table. Sophia slowly reached her hands to her head and began to pull the scattered pins out of her hair.

  We brushed our hair in silence, falling into unison on the strokes.

  Sophia glanced at my reflection and her eyes widened.

  “Gracious, Evie, you look exactly like me!”

  I looked at our reflections. At the two pairs of brown eyes set in two heart-shaped faces, framed by dark hair with a touch of copper.

  “It’s extraordinary,” she said. “We could be sisters.”

  “Yes. We really could.”

  Sophia frowned.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your hair.”

  She ran her hands through my hair in all directions, ruffling it violently.

  “Get off! Ow, you’re pulling! What are you doing?”

  “That’s better,” she said, disentangling her hands. “It was far too neat. You ought not to have brushed it.”

  “Would you like me to do your hair like mine and Polly’s?”

  “Do,” she said. “I shall watch you carefully, since I shall have to do it myself in future.”

  She sat in a tense silence while I scraped her hair back and twisted it into a bun. Suddenly she said, “I’m frightened.”

  “Of your father catching you?”

  “No, no. If you are here in my room, being me, he will not even know I am gone. That is the beauty of your idea.”

  “So what are you frightened of?”

  “I know nothing, Evie. In my entire life, I have never even done my own hair. I cannot cook, I cannot clean, I cannot make a fire…”

  “You’ll learn,” I said. “Robbie will teach you. I didn’t know any of those things either, until I started work here. There,” I said, sticking the last pin in her bun. “Look at you now. Evie the housemaid.”

  Sophia reached round and took my hand. “Sit next to me.”

  We sat together at the dressing table in silence, gazing at our reflections. I looked at my wild, tangled hair and tho
ught of the girl at the window in the white nightdress.

  “You have done so much for me,” Sophia said. “I wish there were something I could do for you.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I’ll be fine. But if there was something you could do for Polly, maybe? I was teaching her to read and write. She really wants to learn.”

  And as I said the words, I remembered what Robbie had said about how he had taught himself.

  “When you were learning to read and write,” I asked, “did you use a primer?”

  “I did,” she said. “Would you like Polly to have it?”

  “That would be great. Then she could carry on learning. She wants to be a housekeeper some day, you see.”

  “All my school books are in there,” said Sophia, pointing to a big carved cupboard on the other side of the room. “Take anything you wish for Polly.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll find a way to get them to her. You must go, or Mrs Hardwick will be on your case. And believe me, you don’t want that.”

  Sophia reached into her pocket and pressed two gold coins into my hand. “Here. You may need these.”

  “Oh, no,” I said, handing them back. “It’s really kind, but you’ll need them for your journey.”

  She curled my fingers around the coins. “I have sufficient. You must take these. For emergencies.”

  I remembered my mother’s words at Victoria Station. In another time, another world.

  “Thank you,” I said. “That’s really kind of you.” I stood up and slipped the coins into my pocket.

  “What must I do when I go down?” asked Sophia.

  “Take this chamber pot with you. Don’t worry,” I said, as she recoiled. “It’s empty. But you’ll need it. It’s the only reason for a housemaid to go outside. Leave by the back door in the basement. Hopefully everyone will be busy and won’t see you leave. Keep your head down as you cross the stable yard, and if that horrible Jacob tries to grab you, smack him in the face from me.”

  I decided not to mention I’d been banned from leaving the house. At this time of day, Mrs Hardwick was always in her room, doing the accounts, so I was pretty sure Sophia would be able to leave without being questioned.