by Anna Jacobs
Phoebe unlocked the metal grille with a huge old key. The metalwork was beautiful and Olivia stopped for a moment to admire it.
When they went inside, Phoebe locked the metal grille carefully behind them. She saw Olivia’s surprise. ‘We don’t want anyone following us inside, do we?’ she said.
‘I suppose not.’
They went down a short corridor to one side and that took them out of the icy wind, at least. The light was dimmer here, so Phoebe lit two of the candles standing ready in candlesticks on a stone shelf. There was now enough light to see clearly the stonework near the door and the two stone box tombs in the middle, each marked by a woman’s name, age and the words Sister in God.
‘They were two of the first group of nuns,’ Phoebe said. ‘No others were ever buried here. I think the abbey was destroyed before anyone else could grow old enough to die.’
‘Isn’t Anne Latimer’s tomb in here?’ Olivia asked, lifting her own candle high and staring round.
‘No, she’s buried in the village church, under the floor halfway down the right-hand side as you go in, and her husband with her. Women sometimes sit in the pew next to her grave to pray for all sorts of things. They say they feel as if someone is listening.
‘One woman was distraught and spent the night weeping there after her husband was killed. She swears that as dawn was breaking she felt a hand on her shoulder, and it comforted her as nothing else had. She said she heard a voice, too, and Anne told her she’d find love again. You can choose whether to believe that or not.’
‘I saw Anne Latimer, remember. I can picture her comforting someone in such distress. What’s the woman doing now?’
‘She did find love and is married again, to a former soldier who’d been discharged after a leg injury. He limps badly but as he has a job in an office, that doesn’t matter. They live in Swindon.’
‘It’s a lovely story.’
‘Now, we should—’
There was the sound of something metallic clicking loudly and a man called in a high, false voice, ‘Get out of that, if you can, you rotten bitches!’
‘He might have disguised his voice,’ Phoebe said, ‘but that’s Hatterson. He has an unusual way of pronouncing the letter R. Let’s go and see what he’s done now.’
They went back to the entrance, checking that he was no longer there before they examined the door.
There was another big padlock and chain on the door, so it was now double-locked.
Olivia looked at her companion in shock. ‘We’re trapped.’
‘No. We can go through the hidden tunnel to the cellar, then send someone to saw off the padlock. Surely Hatterson knows there’s a secret passage? Most of the people in the village do.’
‘Perhaps he doesn’t talk to them – or they don’t talk to him.’
‘Could be. This is a nuisance and we shall get dirty in the passage, but that’s all. Before we leave, I’ll show you the little shrine. It’s such a pretty one.’
Olivia admired the little carved stone figures. When her new-found cousin bowed her head in prayer, she guessed Phoebe was praying for the safety of her husband and waited quietly for her to finish.
‘We get out this way,’ Phoebe said. She twisted a stone rose and there was a grating sound as a hole opened to one side of the shrine. ‘The passage is a bit cramped at times, but at least we won’t have to crawl. Are you all right about enclosed spaces?’
‘Yes. I don’t like being shut in but I won’t panic, I promise you.’
The two women edged inside the hole, still carrying their candles.
‘The first time I came this way, I was escaping a madman and I had no light,’ Phoebe said. ‘I just had to trust that Anne really had shown me a way out.’
‘You were very brave.’
‘Sometimes you do what you have to and it doesn’t occur to you that you’re being brave at the time. Anyway, let me close the panel and we’ll start moving.’
Olivia didn’t like the feeling of being shut in by the heavy stone panel, but she controlled her fear, trusting her companion to lead her out through the tunnel.
Hatterson waited outside, and sure enough, he saw the two women discover the padlock. He grinned, waiting for them to panic and start screaming for help.
The padlock he’d brought might be old but it was a strong one and would have to be sawn off. He was glad he’d thought of this possibility and been ready for it. He’d been lucky today; he had come out for a walk and so seen them.
He loved making trouble for rich sods who didn’t appreciate how lucky they were. Making big trouble would have been better, but you couldn’t always do something big, so in the meantime you could annoy them in smaller ways.
But these women didn’t panic, damn them. The one who owned the big house said something quietly to her companion and they vanished inside the crypt again.
They’d have to come and yell for help eventually and he’d enjoy listening to that, so he waited, keeping his ears open for anyone else approaching this area. It was damned cold today and he wished he’d dressed more warmly.
After a while he began to wonder whether he should go home and leave them to it. Someone would find them eventually, he was sure … unfortunately. And he didn’t want anyone to find him here as well.
So violently was he shivering by then that he nearly missed the sound of people approaching. Cursing his damned artificial leg, he limped away as quickly as he could, crouching awkwardly behind some of the low ruined walls from the old abbey just in time to see two soldiers turn up.
They examined the padlock then started searching nearby, so he slipped away as fast as he could, wincing as his stump protested against the speed with which he was forcing his artificial leg to move.
The two women must have got out of the crypt and sent the soldiers after him.
How the hell had they escaped?
It took only a moment or two’s thought for him to realise there must be another entrance. He’d walked round the area under which the crypt lay during the day and seen nothing. Perhaps there was an underground passage from inside it, linking it to the house? Yes, that would be it. Why had no one in the village told him about that? Miserable sods. Most of them didn’t even bother to say good morning to him.
What a waste of a day’s effort!
Well, the big operation was nearly planned out now, and the others were ready to act. These rich snobs were about to get a shock. He wasn’t the only one who didn’t want Huns being housed in luxury. He didn’t want Huns in England at all.
It was his patriotic duty to deal with the enemies on the home front.
Chapter Fifteen
After two days of her newly discovered cousin’s company, Olivia felt she had made a good friend as well as found a relative. But she could see that Phoebe was looking a little tired and wondered if she was trying to do too much in her condition.
‘I think I’d better leave you for a while,’ she said that evening. ‘You need to rest more and I need to make a start on gathering together the information for the WIs and planning my talks.’
‘Perhaps a quiet day or two would be good for me,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘I get tired much more easily at the moment.’ She looked down at her stomach and grimaced. ‘It seems to be growing more quickly than I’d expected.’
‘What do you want, a boy or a girl?’
‘Either. Just a healthy child.’ She patted her stomach fondly, then smiled at her companion. ‘Not that I haven’t enjoyed your company, because I have, and you must certainly come back soon for another visit. Or if you’re working nearby, you could stay here overnight any time. Don’t hesitate.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘Why don’t you telephone your friend and ask him if tomorrow would be convenient for him to pick you up?’
Olivia hesitated to call Alex, waiting for her husband’s voice to echo in her mind, as it sometimes did when she was doubtful about doing something. But that jolly voice had been quiet the whole
time she’d been at Greyladies and she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever again hear it echoing so clearly in her mind. ‘Very well. May I use your telephone?’
‘Of course.’
She lifted up the earpiece and listened for the operator’s voice.
‘Exchange and number, please.’
She told the woman the details Alex had given her and waited. Within a couple of minutes they had been connected and she heard his voice. It sounded a bit tinny and echoed slightly, but no man she’d ever met had a deep, soft voice as beautiful as his. She’d recognise it anywhere.
‘Alex, it’s me, Olivia.’
‘How lovely to hear from you! Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. Did Babs tell you what happened to me?’
‘Yes. That must have been a big shock, however pleasant.’
‘It was.’ She hesitated. It wasn’t a small favour to ask.
He said it for her. ‘Babs told me you’d need picking up, since there isn’t a railway station in Challerton.’
‘Is that convenient?’
‘It will always be convenient to fetch you, Olivia. You know that.’
There was a silence, then she said quietly, ‘Yes, I do know it. Thank you, Alex. I appreciate your helpfulness.’
She felt as if some other message had passed between them, words of encouragement from her, even. She knew something inside her had changed greatly during the few days she’d been at Greyladies. Could a house do that to you?
She realised she was wasting the phone call and he was politely waiting for her to continue. ‘Can you come for me tomorrow?’
‘Oh, yes. I’d set off right now, if you needed me.’
She chuckled. ‘I think I can allow you to sleep in peace tonight. Phoebe, who turns out to be a distant cousin of mine, has invited you to take luncheon here before we leave.’
‘That will be a pleasure. I’ll arrive about twelve o’clock, shall I?’
‘Yes. You’ll need to drive round to the back of the house. The front part has been requisitioned.’
‘Yes, Babs told me.’
‘Well … Goodbye for now, then.’
She hung up the earpiece, thus cutting the connection, and smiled at her own face in a nearby mirror. Or was she smiling at the thought of Alex? She was looking forward more than she’d expected to seeing him. She waited, expecting to feel guilty about that. But she didn’t.
‘Forgive me, Charles,’ she murmured and thought she heard him laughing gently.
Nothing to forgive, old girl. Be happy.
Something told her it’d be the last time she heard him in her mind.
When he put down the telephone, Alex smiled and didn’t move for a few minutes, going over their brief conversation two or three times. Olivia had asked his for help and had sounded glad to speak to him. Was he wrong to think that promising?
At length he realised he’d been sitting there for a while, smiling like a fool, so went to find his assistant and ask him to take over the shop. Then he tried to get on with the rest of his day’s work. But he had no valuations to go out to that day, or even that week, a rare lull in that sort of business, and he couldn’t concentrate on paperwork or even on designing a new display of some rather beautiful Georgian furniture he’d acquired recently.
For once he went home early, stopping on the way at a pie shop he patronised when he didn’t want the bother of preparing an evening meal.
People kept telling him he ought to find himself a cook–housekeeper, but he didn’t want anyone in the house when he got home. And he wasn’t a hearty eater, anyway. He had a system for running the house: he left messages for his daily help, who did some shopping for him. Madge had been working for him for long enough to know what he needed almost as well as he did.
After he’d eaten the steak pie while it was still warm, he finished off with a nice, crisp apple and washed his plate and cutlery. Then he went upstairs to pack an overnight bag. He could get to Challerton and back in one day, but something might go wrong and then he’d have to stay away overnight.
That had happened to him once when he first started driving around the countryside, and though he’d found a mechanic and somewhere to spend the night, he’d had no clean clothes for the next day, no toothbrush or washing things, which he’d hated. He always took a change of clothing with him now when going on longer drives, just in case.
Olivia was waiting for Alex in the library area of the medieval hall. She looked fondly across at Phoebe, who had sat down with a book but had promptly dozed off. She had that look some women got when they were expecting, like a luscious ripening fruit.
When a car engine sounded and Alex’s sleek vehicle turned into the stable yard, Phoebe jerked awake and Olivia went to open the door. No need to disturb the two maids in the kitchen.
Yesterday’s biting wind seemed to have dropped but it was so cold her breath clouded the air around her and she wished she had a shawl to throw round her shoulders.
‘Go inside. You’ll catch your death of cold!’ he scolded.
When she didn’t move, he put an arm round her in a companionable way and they walked to the door together. ‘I’m so very glad to see you again,’ he said softly and planted a quick, shy kiss on her cheek.
‘Oh.’
He raised one eyebrow as if asking whether she was upset at this familiarity and she smiled. ‘I’d forgotten how nice a kiss of greeting can be.’
But his kiss had been more than that, they both knew.
She opened the door. ‘Quick! Don’t let the warm air out.’
Laughing, they almost tumbled inside, by which time her cousin was wide awake. ‘Phoebe, this is Alex. Alex, meet Phoebe.’
He went across to shake his hostess’s hand. ‘I can see the resemblance between you two.’ But his eyes lingered on Olivia.
She was only too aware of that and tried to speak lightly. ‘Both of us are carrot tops, you mean.’ But she felt herself blushing at the warmth of his smile.
‘It would be more accurate to say that both of you have beautiful red hair,’ he corrected.
‘Please sit down, Mr Seaton,’ Phoebe said.
‘Do call me Alex. Since I’m a good friend of Babs and Olivia, surely you and I needn’t be so formal.’ He stopped, frowned slightly and looked behind him. ‘What a beautiful room! Is that a minstrel’s gallery?’
‘Yes. It has some beautiful carved woodwork.’
‘There’s a light up there.’ Without asking anyone’s leave, he walked down the long room and looked up the stairs. ‘Do you mind if I go up?’ But he didn’t wait for permission; he started climbing the stairs.
The two women exchanged startled glances.
‘She doesn’t usually appear to men,’ Phoebe whispered. ‘Go and see what’s happening.’
Olivia hurried across to the foot of the stairs and saw the figure of Anne Latimer at the top, fainter this time and transparent, but still clearly delineated.
From part way up the stairs Alex glanced down at her, then continued upwards. He stopped and waited for the ghost to speak, looking calm and almost happy. She could hear their conversation clearly.
‘Welcome to Greyladies, Alex Seaton. One day you will live here.’
‘With Olivia, I hope?’
‘Yes, of course. And you’ll both be very happy here, in ways you never expected.’
‘I’d be happy anywhere with Olivia, but this is a beautiful house.’
‘It’s getting shabby. You will do a lot to restore it.’
‘That would be a great pleasure.’
‘But first you must look after my two ladies. They are both in danger. Find a gun and make sure you can use it. You’ll need it.’
The figure shimmered out of existence abruptly.
Alex stood near the top of the stairs with his head bent, then Olivia heard him blow out his tension in a long, slow breath.
When he turned to come down again, Olivia said quietly, ‘Take your time. It leaves one feeling rat
her disoriented. Have you ever seen a ghost before?’
‘Several times.’
‘Then you must be sensitive to them.’
‘Yes. It runs in my family.’ He began to move slowly down the stairs and at the bottom he took Olivia’s hand and gazed at her lovingly. ‘It seems she approves of us being together.’
‘Yes. I’m … the words which came out weren’t what she’d expected, ‘happy about that.’
He didn’t let go of her hand. And she didn’t pull away from him as they walked to the other end of the long room to join Phoebe.
‘I don’t remember ever hearing about a man seeing her before,’ she said.
‘She’s lovely. Warm and kind. What’s her name?’
‘Anne Latimer. She was the founder of this house and set up the legacy that goes with it, to help women in trouble. May I ask what she said to you? I couldn’t make out the words from here.’
‘She told me you and Olivia are both in danger and said I must protect you. What sort of danger could that be?’
‘Ah. There’s a man in the village, Sidney Hatterson. He lost a leg in the war and he’s leading a hate campaign against the Germans interned here, and also against me because I’m the chatelaine. I’m rather worried about what he’ll do next.’
‘Your ghost said I would need a gun. Do you mind if I bring mine in?’
‘You have a gun with you?’ Olivia was astonished at that.
‘I felt if the war went badly, even civilians should be able to defend themselves, so I learnt to shoot. And as I visit some very remote places, I carry the gun with me in the car. I haven’t had to use it, though.’
‘I’d never have thought it of you.’ Olivia flushed again. ‘I didn’t mean to sound insulting. It’s just that you seem so gentle.’
‘I’m not a violent person but I hope I would defend myself if I had to … or try to protect those I care about.’
‘My maid is carrying a gun around with her too.’ Phoebe swallowed hard and glanced down at herself. ‘My husband said I should keep it nearby but I’m not in the best fighting form at the moment.’