The Dead Summer

by Helen Moorhouse

  There is one advantage to Marion’s carefree lifestyle and that is that Robert is free to come visit me at the cottage and spend time with myself and Henry, like a proper little family. Oh, you should see how Robert is with him, Caroline, dandling him on his knee, bringing him little presents like the little carved train and the spinning top he gave him for his first birthday last August. I had to tell him to stop bringing so many gifts for when Marion sees them she flies into a rage and has already smashed some of them – a little wooden soldier and skittles that Robert gave him so he would learn to knock them down with a ball. She hates for Henry to have new things and her not.

  The love between Robert and me has grown more over the year, and not less. I can scarce believe that I should be so fortunate as to experience the love of this good man. Our ‘Secret Love’ as we call it, for he doesn’t tell his father about me any more than I tell Marion. His father still visits from time to time and I have heard him express his disappointment that Robert has chosen to remain at home to learn the family business of building rather than go to Oxford or Cambridge, and how he wishes for Robert and Charles to make matches like Iris has, with wealthy people who can extend their family fortunes but that at nineteen Robert is still too young. Iris was married last year to one Frederick Forbes – Freddie, Robert calls him – and Robert told me such tales of the wedding.

  Robert has said that he is serious about me and that he wishes to love no one else and that when we are both twenty-one, in two years’ time, then come hell or high water we will be married. He says he will talk his father round to realising what a good match we are, and it is not as if I am without a penny or two to bring to the family from Daddy’s business, and sure aren’t Daddy and Mr Mountford friends these many years? Robert feels it isn’t the right time now and I agree. Best for us to wait until we are old enough to do as we see fit and no one else. In the meantime we content ourselves with our snatched visits, and I listen over and over to our song, ‘Secret Love’, on the record player that Robert gave us for Christmas. Marion complained and said to Mr Mountford himself that she should prefer a transistor radio. I saw him smile when she did that, and she pouted her lips as is her latest habit. I think he finds her funny.

  If only he knew. If only he saw the scars on her arms under her cardigan where she cuts herself time and time again and threatens to cut Henry and me too. If only he saw the state of her room when she refuses to clean the sheets that she has soiled in many ways. To the village, for she spends much of her time there now, and Bickford too, Marion Flynn is the fun-loving Irish girl of mystery – she tells the villagers nothing. I am too shy to make friends and know only Mrs Collins, Dr Baker and the grocer to say hello to. Daddy said we should keep our heads low and so I must continue to do that, even if Marion won’t, and by doing so we have the village wondering about the girls up at Eyrie Farm. If only they knew that it was three of us and not two, for we have done such a good job of hiding my little Henry with the help of Mrs Collins. Were it up to me I would shout Henry’s name to the world and my love for him also.

  And so another year has passed, Caroline. I wonder by my birthday and St Brigid’s Feast Day next year what life will bring us all in our sorry tale?

  Your friend,

  Lily

  Chapter 26

  July 14th

  Will and Gabriel were already seated at a table, deep in conversation, when Martha entered the dining area the following morning. It was considerably emptier than it had been the previous morning, the weekend trade over for another four or five days. Just another ordinary Monday morning.

  Martha busied herself by thinking about what she might do when she returned to London later that day. She knew that Sue would put her up for a while until she could find a place of her own. She could continue with her writing back in the city. Of course things would be much more expensive there so her nest egg mightn’t stretch as far. There would be higher rent, a higher cost of living, more expensive childcare. Worrying as these financial thoughts were, however, Martha was excited to be thinking them. Things were going to return to normal.

  “Good morning,” she said quietly as she reached the table.

  Will and Gabriel looked up in surprise – they had been so engrossed in something on Will’s BlackBerry that they hadn’t seen her approach.

  “Oh, morning,” said Will. Gabriel nodded at her.

  A waiter appeared out of nowhere carrying a high chair for Ruby and Martha smiled gratefully and lowered her into the seat.

  “How did everyone sleep?” she asked. She was aware that her imminent escape was filling her with optimism but she couldn’t forget the subdued atmosphere of the night before. She glanced at the white faces and puffy eyes of both men and realised that she didn’t need to wait for an answer to her question. She began to sort out Ruby’s breakfast.

  “Looks like another scorcher out,” said Will, playing with Ruby’s hand as Martha fed her some bottle.

  She glanced out into the car park where already a heat haze rose off the parked cars. “Mmm,” she agreed. She looked at Will and Gabriel who were not speaking and felt uncomfortable, like she had interrupted something. She itched to get away. Not long now and she’d be relaxing in Sue’s apartment which was bright and modern, safe, imagining across the miles to where dark, scary Eyrie Farm would be once again deserted. Good riddance, she thought.

  A waitress arrived with scrambled eggs for both Will and Gabriel and they ate in silence. Martha decided to have some fruit from the buffet once Ruby was fed. With any luck, the others might have finished by then and she would be left in peace. She wanted to find out what the other two had planned for the day – when she could reasonably expect to get on the road – so she could give Sue a ring with an ETA. There was still a lingering atmosphere of the night before in the air, however, and she didn’t really know how to bring it up. The three sat in silence until the men had finished eating and Ruby had turned her face away from the last spoonful of porridge and fruit. Martha knew someone would have to speak so she broached the subject casually.

  “So, Will, what time did you finish up last night?”

  “Hmm? Oh, not long after you,” he said, still preoccupied with his BlackBerry.

  Martha sighed and stood up to head to the buffet for her breakfast.

  When she returned she caught Gabriel making a face at Will as though urging him to do something. Will, in turn, glared at Gabriel and Martha detected a barely discernible shake of his head. She continued to look at them both as she began to eat, aware now that she had definitely interrupted something.

  “Spit it out,” she said eventually, growing annoyed at the awkward silence and how the two men were avoiding eye contact.

  Will sighed. “We’ve got the –” he began, but was cut off by Gabriel.

  “You and the bairn need to spend another night at the cottage,” he blurted out.

  Martha swung her head from Will to Gabriel and her mouth opened in disbelief. “What?” she demanded, outraged.

  Will looked at Gabriel in exasperation while the big man continued to avoid eye contact with either of them.

  “Are you out of your mind?” said Martha. “No! I will most certainly not be spending another night at that place. Tell him, Will.”

  He looked down at the table to avoid her gaze.

  Martha went red. “So, this big idea is down to both of you?” she said, staring at Will. “Why on earth would you think I’d even want to set foot in that place, much less stay a night in it?”

  “Look, Martha,” he began in a calm voice. “In order for us to investigate properly –”

  “Us?” interrupted Martha, her breakfast forgotten. “Us? You mean you, don’t you, Will? You alone and your bloody paper or whatever it is you’re working on for Spooky School! This isn’t about ‘us’ at all – it’s about you!”

  Gabriel butted in. “In all fairness, Martha –”

  It was her turn to look ferocious. She spun
around in her seat to look at him and stopped him in his tracks. “Oh, you’re poking an oar in now, are you?”

  Gabriel made to speak again but he was silenced by Martha snapping at him, “Why should you help him out? He lied to you about there being a child involved. And he’s investigating you as well, or didn’t you know that? Probably trying to prove you’re a total fraud like all these scientists. Can’t you see it, Gabriel? There’s no point in being on his side – he’s using us both for his studies. Freaks like us with the haunted house and the ability to see dead people!”

  “Steady on, Martha,” said Will, sternly. “I’m not using anyone and if you remember correctly you weren’t entirely honest with me from the start which is why the investigation has to take place again.”

  “So it’s my fault?” Martha’s voice grew high-pitched with incredulity. “You’re telling me that somehow it’s my – my – obligation to go back in there when I didn’t even want to be involved in the first place! You’ve a bloody cheek, asking me to do that. I owe you nothing – absolutely nothing – and I think you’ve a nerve asking me to go back in there for your own ends. The answer’s no.”

  She made to stand up but was stopped in her tracks by a hiss from Gabriel.

  “Sit down,” he snarled, looking her directly in the eye with a face more ferocious than her own.

  Despite herself, she sank back slowly onto her chair.

  “That’s better,” continued Gabriel. “Now you listen to me, madam, and put that temper of yours back in its box. You’re like an alley cat and all we want to do is explain. For starters – I am perfectly aware that I am a case study of Will’s. Do you think I answer his call just because I love and adore him? Will’s investigation – or case study of my gift, if you will – is as much for my benefit, and that of mediumship in general, as his own – but that is not any of your business.”

  Martha felt uncomfortable. She couldn’t understand why this man intimidated her so much. But he was right. She was wrong to assume that Will was investigating Gabriel in secret. And it was none of her business.

  “Secondly,” continued Gabriel, “I think you’re forgetting that, investigation or not, there’s the spirit of a wee child in that house who needs help. That, ultimately, is what I do. It is for that reason – for him – that I am telling you, not asking you, that you need to spend one night of your tiny life in that house in order to put an end to an eternity of misery for a small boy.”

  Martha snorted, anger flooding over her again. The situation was ridiculous. This guy, who didn’t know her from Adam, ordering her about, telling her to be somewhere she didn’t want to be and somewhere that she had no obligation to be. Here he was talking about spirits and spooks and outside the sun was blazing and she had a real life to get back to at the other end of a motorway. She leaned toward Gabriel.

  “You don’t tell me anything, do you get that?” she said calmly. “What you and he –” she indicated an uneasy-looking Will, “want to do is between yourselves. You want to go up there and move in – feel free.” She rummaged in her bag, then slammed the housekeys down on the table. “But for the millionth time this is nothing to do with me. In fact, if this haunting palaver is true, then I am putting myself and my daughter in danger by merely sticking a key in the door, it would seem, so I’ll pass, thank you very much. I’m going back to London as soon as I can get my car packed up but you two – well –” she indicated the keys on the table, “knock yourselves out!”

  Martha turned to the high chair and began loading the feeding equipment from Ruby’s high chair into her bag.

  “You selfish bitch!” hissed Gabriel. “Imagine if that were your wee girl up there trapped in that fireplace? Wouldn’t you want someone to help her? Or do you only care about yourself and to hell with everyone else? That poor kiddie – that four-year-old boy – was alive once, just like your child there. With all the cutesy-pie little gestures and faces, all the promise for the future and some – some bastard put an end to that by sealing him up with bricks! How can you call yourself a mother?”

  Martha was stunned into silence. She stared at Gabriel, frozen in the act of filling the bag with the empty bottle and spoons. The air crackled with tension. Will held his breath as Gabriel’s eyes burned into Martha’s, his face red, his breathing laboured.

  Martha responded by taking the changing bag and flinging it onto the table. She then stood up and stormed away from the table. Cups clattered as they fell, a stream of coffee poured over the edge of the table causing Will to slide his chair back suddenly to avoid a soaking. Martha’s own bowl was upended, the contents draining slowly out onto the tablecloth. A pile of salt was forming where the bag had knocked over the cellar.

  Ruby watched her mother storm across reception and push the swinging door open to the car park before disappearing out of sight. The little girl’s lower lip began to wobble and she let out a long wail of anguish.

  Martha was blinded by the sunshine as she stepped outside, her heart pounding, her hands and legs trembling. How dare he say that to her? A total stranger speaking to her that way? She was livid – who on earth did he think he was? She was doing just fine as a mum – what right had he to question something he had no knowledge of? And as for his demands? Telling her to do things she had no intention of doing? Calling her names? Who was this person?

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She stood in the middle of the car park, her hands on her hips, her face turned toward the sky. Against her better nature she knew that part of what Gabriel had said was right. She couldn’t pretend there was nothing there at the cottage. All the logic in the world couldn’t explain what she had felt and seen and heard. Again in her head she replayed the little footsteps padding across the floor of Ruby’s room, heard the little clatter as the soother hit the floor. A vision formed, unbidden, in her head of the skinny bare legs of a child climbing into the wall and vanishing. Martha shook her head to get it out. Is that what it must look like? It was too much to take in.

  She had thought ahead a thousand times to what Ruby might look like at four years old, what it might sound like when her little legs ran across floorboards. How would she cope if someone hurt her? Martha’s heart contracted – if anything were to happen to Ruby she’d die herself. It was unthinkable that harm should come to her – surely every mother felt that way?

  She was roused by the sound of someone approaching and her stomach tightened as she turned, expecting another tongue-lashing from Gabriel. Instead, she saw the tear-streaked face of her own daughter holding out her chubby arms as Will carried her toward her.

  “Oh Ruby, I’m so sorry,” said Martha, sweeping her into her arms and pulling her tight against her body. What a hypocrite she was, standing here worrying about how she’d feel if someone else hurt Ruby at the very same time as storming off and deserting her with two completely strange men. A sudden jolt of guilt hit Martha so strongly that she felt her knees might buckle underneath her. She pressed her baby tighter to her. “I’m sorry, little girl,” she whispered into her hair and stroked the back of her head.

  Will looked down and shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Look, I’m sorry about Gabriel,” he began.

  Martha turned her back on him and walked a few steps away.

  Will was about to turn and walk back into the hotel when Martha spoke.

  “What would I have to do?” she asked.

  “Oh, Martha!”

  She swung around as he walked toward her, his face alight.

  “I’m not promising a damn thing,” she said, wiping tear trails from Ruby’s face.

  Will stopped. “I understand. All we’d need you to do is to stay one night – just do exactly what you’d normally do – put Ruby to bed, watch TV, go to bed yourself.”

  “But I’d be alone?”

  Will shook his head. “Yes and no. I’d be outside monitoring everything that happens. The house would be rigged up with cameras and audio equipment and I’d be with yo
u in a couple of seconds if needs be.”

  Martha thought about it for a moment. “And what about him,” she said, a contemptuous tone to her voice as she nodded toward the big glass frontage of the hotel.

  “Gabriel will stay nearby but he couldn’t be in the house all night.”

  “Why not?”

  “The ‘M’ entity is what we’d call an intelligent haunting. We need to record evidence of it doing just that . . .”

  “Intelligent haunting?” said Martha.

  Will nodded. “It can interact with people if it wants to, move objects around and block Gabriel from finding out anything about it. Similarly, we’ve seen that if I’m there on my own then it doesn’t seem interested in responding, if my own investigation is anything to go by. That’s why we need things to go back to exactly how they were the last time we had activity.”

  “You keep saying ‘we’ again, Will. I’m the one who’s being terrorised by this so-called ghost, and an unfriendly one at that. You are the one who is benefiting from the experience with evidence to put in your paper. There isn’t a ‘we’ here.”

  Will looked at his feet. “I know,” he admitted. “This is the case I’ve been the most excited about since starting my course – I’ll be honest, this paper is very important to me – as is everything I’ve learned about Gabriel. I won’t deny that it will benefit me.”

  Martha shifted Ruby to her other hip. “And what about Gabriel – what’s in it for him?”