by Mary Mackie
‘I don’t believe in ghosts, Miss Lily.’
‘Don’t you? I do.’ She shivered. ‘I can feel them here, all around us, hiding in the shadows. There was a boy who was killed, you know – Sir Richard’s son and heir. Harry, he was called. I remember it happening. I was about ten years old at the time. There was a dreadful to-do, and a huge funeral. The procession went on for miles. And now there’s Nanny…’
‘Nanny wun’t hurt no one,’ Jess said firmly. ‘Dead or alive.’
‘Ghosts don’t have to hurt people, Jess. They haunt. They hover around in the ether. I was beginning to be sorry I’d sent you off tonight, but then Mrs Roberts came and asked me to have a cup of chocolate with her. She expected to find you cleaning Nanny’s room, but I said I’d sent you to the rectory for something, so remember to say the same if she asks.’
She seemed calm. Too calm, maybe.
‘Jess!!’ The sound of Bella’s voice, calling her in terror, took Jess scurrying out to the landing to unbolt the door. Bella was out of bed, shivering. She’d been having a nightmare about Nanny and had woken herself up by walking into the wall – she had quite a bump on her forehead. Jess stayed with her until she went back to sleep.
It was only after Jess and Lily both went to bed, in the room they were sharing, that Lily gave in to her distress. She wept for a long time. Jess lay silent, sympathising but not knowing what to say. She herself felt too empty for tears.
Everything had gone wrong. For both of them.
* * *
The following morning, as she made along the attic corridor to fetch hot water, Jess was surprised to hear Mrs Roberts call her name rather sharply. The housekeeper stood in the doorway of her room, fully dressed but with her long plaits still hanging down in front, waiting to go into their usual coil about her head.
‘Jessamy,’ she repeated, her pleasant face set in unusually severe lines. ‘Come here, please.’
With a sinking heart, Jess did as she was bid, being beckoned right inside the room before Mrs Roberts closed the door firmly. Something serious was afoot.
Nanny’s death had given the Hewinghall staff plenty to gossip about, but now, it seemed, a new subject was fuelling whispers – rumours that emanated from chapel, from the Pratt family in particular.
‘I am astonished by what I’m hearing,’ Mrs Roberts said, perplexed. ‘I don’t understand… What is the truth of it, Jess? Why should this preacher say such things if—’
‘He says ’em so’s to hide the real truth,’ Jess said flatly. God rot Nathanael Merrywest, she would not submit to his ruses. How could she explain, though, without going into damning detail? ‘Mrs Roberts… When I first come here to Hewinghall, I told the squire… He axed me about my past and I told him… I told him there’d been trouble, on account of what someone did to me – not for something I’d done. The squire believed me. He said a person was allowed a few secrets. So if you now reckon I’ve got somethin’ to answer for, then… then I’ll answer to the squire and nobody else.’
Mrs Roberts peered at her with narrowed eyes. Evidently she didn’t want to bother the squire over a few unsubstantiated rumours, which was all the gossip amounted to, as yet. And she seemed impressed by the frank way Jess returned her gaze, with her head up high and her eyes steady. After a few moments’ thought, the housekeeper said, ‘Very well, Jess. I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, for now. In the short time I’ve known you, I’ve come to think of you as a girl I can rely on. But I may need to speak to you again. Some very serious charges appear to have been raised. If these rumours don’t stop…’
‘I understand,’ said Jess. But she knew she was going to be on trial from now on. The ordeal by gossip was only just beginning.
* * *
For Jess, however, hard work had always been an antidote to worrying; she was not sorry to have an extra job, cleaning Nanny’s room, to occupy her mind. It wasn’t a pleasant task, but since it had to be done she’d sooner do it herself. She and Nanny had been friends, in their way.
By mid-morning she’d emptied all the cupboards and drawers and put the contents in boxes to be sorted later; then she’d moved all the furniture to the middle of the room, covered it with dust sheets and set about clearing cobwebs from the ceiling; she’d swept the walls down, washed the paintwork and scrubbed the linoleum area by area, leaving it to dry while she went down to bang the mats in the kitchen courtyard. She might have done it on the roof except that Lily was in the schoolroom finding out how well Bella could read and Jess didn’t want to open the windows with the child in there. Besides, guests were beginning to arrive in the gravel court below and she couldn’t risk showering dust on any of them!
Mrs Roberts and her kitchen staff were up to their eyes preparing food, sweating cobs in the heat from the ranges. As she belaboured her rugs on the cobbles outside, Jess could see them busily rolling pastry, turning spits, chopping vegetables. She didn’t envy them, but she did wonder what was being said about her. Suspicious glances came her way through the big windows.
No sooner had she replaced the rugs than it was time to wash her hands, change her apron and think about dinner – or luncheon, as it was called in the big house. As usual, she prepared a milk pudding for dessert and fetched the rest from the kitchen.
‘I want you to look after Bella this afternoon,’ Lily said, pushing away her dish of creamed tapioca. Delicately dabbing her mouth, she laid her napkin aside and looked at Jess with clear, guileless eyes. ‘I need to go home, to fetch a few more of my things – and to collect Gyp.’
‘Oh, yes!’ Bella cried, all excitement. ‘Let’s fetch Gyp. May I go, too? I want to go!’
‘Well, you can’t!’ Lily said sharply.
‘Why not?’ The child’s flailing fist – mostly by accident – landed on the edge of her dish. It flipped up and turned over, depositing her pudding on the cloth.
‘Naughty girl!’ Lily cried, and leapt to her feet in a rage that made Bella blanch and cower down in her chair, arms up as if to ward off blows.
‘She din’t mean to!’ Jess swooped to whisk the child out of her chair before she could get tapioca over everything. She set her down on the floor and swiftly cleared the table, cloth and all, on to a tray.
‘She did mean to,’ Lily said angrily. ‘Nasty little beast. Now she’s given me a headache. Oh… I must have some fresh air. It’s so stuffy in here. Why can’t we open the windows?’ She knew why, though she didn’t see the sense in it. ‘It’s unhealthy. I shall have to go out. I’ll go and change my shoes and—’
‘Miss…’ Jess ventured as Lily made for the far door. ‘Do you go out on your own, Lady Maud’ll find out. ’Sides, I’m supposed to be clearin’ out Nanny’s room today, not lookin’ after Miss Bella.’
‘Can’t you do both?’
‘I could try, but if someone come up here…’
‘I have to go, Jess!’ The strange eyes were suddenly desperate, on the edge of tears.
It wasn’t only Gyp she was anxious to see, Jess realised. Was that what that letter last night had been about? Had Jess been used, not to cancel an assignation but only to change the arrangements?
Lily didn’t even try to lie. ‘I told him I’d be there, if it was humanly possible. I need to explain to him…’
‘That en’t possible,’ Jess said quietly. ‘Not today. Please, Miss Lily, don’t…’
Lily hesitated, chewing her thumb nail as she agonised over it, changing her mind ten times in the space of as many seconds. At last, she let out a sigh. ‘Oh… very well. You’re right – and I hate you for it, Jess. But I can still go to the rectory and fetch Gyp.’ She looked at the child on the floor, forcing a smile. ‘Well, Bella, it seems you have got your way after all. Shall we go for a walk?’
* * *
To Lily’s utter astonishment, there was no one at home at the rectory and all the doors were locked. On a Tuesday, of all days. That was the one day of the week her papa always stayed at home, working quietly in h
is study with as few distractions as he could manage, with only Eliza at home to make tea and answer the door. Eliza, of course, loved those days, when she could laze about as she pleased.
But she wasn’t there today. No one answered at any door.
‘Where have they all gone?’ Bella asked worriedly. ‘Where’s Gyp?’
‘I don’t know.’ If Gyp had been in the kitchen he would have come barking when she looked in the window. He wasn’t in the walled garden, or the kitchen yard.
Not believing that there could be no one in, Lily hammered again at the side door. This time there was movement inside and the bolt was drawn, the door opened a fraction. Eliza peered out, holding a wrap close to her throat, her hair dishevelled, her face puffed and bleary – but her green eyes remained sharp.
‘I en’t well,’ she said flatly. ‘You’ve now got me out o’ my sick bed. There en’t no one else here, they’re all gone out.’
‘Even my papa?’
‘Someone came after him. There’s somebody poorly in the village.’
‘I only came to get Gyp,’ Lily said. ‘Where is he? I’ll take him and then you can get back to your bed, if you really are ill. You don’t look ill. You look as if you were sleeping.’
Eliza regarded her with undisguised hatred, mouth compressed and eyes burning. ‘The dog en’t here, neither. We let him out to have a run afore we shut him up last night, and he never come back. He’re run away.’
‘Run away?’ Lily repeated, so incredulous she almost laughed. ‘Gyp never goes out of the garden!’
‘Well, he have this time. Must a got out through a hole in the fence somewhere. Now I have to shut this door. I’m gettin’ cold stood here in my bare feet.’
The door actually closed in her face. Lily stared at it, then pounded on it. ‘Eliza! Eliza!’ But Eliza didn’t respond.
‘What’s happened to Gyp?’ Bella wanted to know.
‘What?’ Lily had all but forgotten the child was there. A hand to her whirling head, she looked down at the small pale face. ‘I don’t know.’ What was going on? Had the world gone mad? Gyp vanished, the house empty, Eliza behaving as if she were the mistress and Lily a beggar at the door.
All Lily knew was that she had to talk to someone about it. She had to talk to Ash. In her letter she’d told him she’d be there, if she could get away, at their frequent rendezvous in the old ruined manor at Syderford.
Well, it wasn’t far to walk, even with Bella tagging along. She could find some tale to still the child’s curiosity. She simply had to see Ash.
* * *
Nanny’s possessions were pitifully few, as Jess discovered when she came to sort them out. There were her clothes – mostly black – and other personal bits and pieces; cheap jewellery, a photo or two, some folded papers with childish scribblings on – Nanny had kept mementoes of several old charges, it seemed, though Jess could only guess who they might be. One piece of paper proved to be an envelope. It said ‘Harry’ on the front, and it contained a bright ginger curl of soft hair…
When she thought about it, Jess realised she knew little about Nanny, not even her real name. She must have been young once, with a family, and friends. Yet she had died alone, anonymous, with only these few pitiful things to testify to her long life. Was that how it was with women who gave their lives to the children of the rich?
Was that what Lily feared?
Footsteps along the outer landing preceded a knock at the door, which opened to reveal Sal Gooden. ‘Her ladyship want Miss Bella taken down to the red drawing room this afternoon. She’re goin’ to show her off to the company. You’re to tell Miss Clare…’
Oh, Lord! Jess had known there’d be trouble if Lily went out. If she’d gone to meet that Ashton Haverleigh…
But just at that moment Lily appeared, dragging an equally breathless Bella with her. She looked about fit to burst with either fury or misery, but on learning that she had been summoned she said, ‘You see to Bella. I must get changed,’ and disappeared.
Hurriedly, telling Bella that she was in for a real treat, taking tea with the grown-ups, Jess managed to wash the child and put her into clean clothes. She was brushing the coppery hair when Lily reappeared, garbed in black unrelieved but for a frothy white jabot at her throat. Above it her face was pale, her eyes bright with defiance.
‘I’ve been told to dress like a governess, so will this do? Shall I merge sufficiently into the background – assuming I keep my eyes demurely lowered? Well, I shan’t! I shall hold my head up and let them all take a good look. I don’t care what they think. I know who I am. Come, Bella, let us go down. Your mama will be waiting.’
She endured the next hour with impatience, ignored by the company. They were all anxious to please their hostess by admiring her daughter, though after a while Lady Maud tired of the game and Bella was made to sit still and be quiet while the adults resumed their own conversations and took tea. Bella’s huge, nervous eyes remained fixed on her mother most of the time, as if she expected reprimands.
Lily sat in a chair by the door, unregarded. Despite her earlier bravado, she took care not to meet anyone’s eye. She couldn’t bear to, in case someone remarked on her affliction. She wanted to be left alone, to think about Ash.
He hadn’t been at the old manor, but she had found the message he had left tucked behind the loose piece of panelling which had become their letterbox. It had told her that he, too, had altered his plans, that he couldn’t get away to meet her; he had been called away for a few days. But he hoped to see her at the Belladay celebrations. Hoped to?
‘Miss Clare!’ Lady Maud’s call jerked her attention back to the room. ‘You can take Bella back to the nursery now. Come here and kiss your mama, Bella dear.’ Bella did so, with obvious reluctance, made an awkward curtsey to the company, and came to take Lily’s hand.
‘Pretty little thing,’ one of the gentlemen remarked with more sentiment than truth.
All eyes were on the thin, plain child as she left; no one looked at her governess, much to Lily’s chagrin. Being ignored was almost worse than being stared at. Didn’t any of them realise she was a human being with feelings?
* * *
They buried Nanny Fyncham that evening. Most of the Hewinghall servants were busy because of the guests, but Mrs Roberts managed to get away for half an hour and Jess also made it her business to be there at the church in the park; she left Bella sleeping, in Lily’s charge. The gardeners, including Matty, acted as bearers. Reverend Clare conducted the brief ceremony and Miss Peartree attended, weeping copiously for her friend. Sir Richard also put in an appearance, though he arrived late.
As Jess turned to follow the coffin out of the church, she saw another late attender in one of the rear pews – Reuben Rudd, with lamplight warm on his bare head and a black band around his sleeve. Her heart seemed to jump as their eyes met, though his expression told her only that the coolness remained between them. He fell in beside Mrs Roberts as she passed him, and she said something about having to get back to the house to be sure the food was all ready.
At the graveside, Jess found herself standing beside Rudd in the cool damp of the night. A rising wind swung the lantern that one of the men carried on a pole, sending light waxing and waning across the rector’s pink face and white hair as he intoned the words. Matty and the others lowered the box into the freshly dug grave, then Sir Richard and Miss Peartree each tossed a handful of earth to thud on the wooden lid. Jess and Rudd did likewise and the four gardeners copied them. The sexton moved in to fill the grave almost before the sorry little party turned away.
‘Didn’t she have any relatives?’ Rudd murmured to Jess.
‘Not as anyone know. Not much to say for a whole life, is it?’
‘No. Not much.’
Sir Richard strode by, bidding them good evening. The gardeners were making for the gate, too. As Jess turned to follow them, Rudd said in an undertone, ‘I need to talk to thee. About last night.’
‘What about
it?’
He took a breath, as if to steady himself, then: ‘I could shut my eyes, just once. Happen I could put it down to chance, on account of what’s been between us. But I have to warn thee, Jess, I won’t let the memory of fondness sway me if it happens again.’
Mystified, she glanced back at him, feeling the first soft flurry of rain on her face. It made her shiver. ‘If what happen?’
‘Jess?’ Matty loomed up out of the shadows. ‘D’you want me to see you back to the house? We’re then a-goin’ to have a jar or two, to see the old girl on her way.’
‘And get your courage up for another night’s poaching?’ Rudd asked in a hard voice.
Matty peered at him, as if he’d only just realised who Jess was with. ‘Poachin’, Mr Rudd? What – me?’
‘Yes, you.’ Low as it was, Rudd’s voice expressed his bitter fury and even in the darkness Jess saw his eyes flash as he turned on her, saying, ‘Was it you dug the shot out of him? Or was it Jim Potts that Obi hit? He got one of them, he swears. Well, next time, Henefer, you might not be so lucky. Next time, it might be me behind the sights. And I shoot straight. Good night to you both.’
As he strode away, Matty let out a soft laugh. ‘He’ll have to catch me first. Blasted gamekeeper!’
Only then did Jess realise what Rudd had meant by his veiled accusations – he took her for a poacher’s decoy! He thought she’d been helping them last night! Blast… didn’t he know her better than that? She turned on Matty furiously. ‘Was it you? Was it you after them birds last night? Oh, Matty… I warned you about Jim Potts.’
‘Jim Potts weren’t nowhere near that field last night,’ Matty said. ‘No more was I. We heard there was some trouble, but that wan’t us as caused it. Fact is, we was in the back room of the “Admiral Nelson”. You ax anybody who was there – half a dozen on ’em will swear to it.’