by Peppi Hilton
7
IFor the last few days Francine had scoured the internet looking for any information she could find on The Grange, but to no avail. It just didn’t make sense. Historic houses of the calibre which Kelly had described would normally be found easily on the web, but all that the search engines came up with was that the property was being offered for auction. Francine was feeling increasingly frustrated by the lack of success she’d had in her endeavours to track down evidence of a past murder. She desperately wanted to prove to herself that her dear friend was not taking a step backwards in respect of her health, as well as convincing Kelly that she had nothing to fear. Francine remembered the details of the incident as clearly as if she had been there herself, and she was absolutely determined in her resolve to get to the bottom of it, with or without Kelly’s approval.
After giving it a lot of thought, Francine jotted down a list of other sources. First of all she would check the library records of all local newspapers for that period. If there had been a murder – and she was convinced that there had – it would have been recorded. The only snag was, she didn’t know just when and the only way to find out would be to ask Kelly, but that wasn’t her preferred option. She had been told that the scenes were from Victorian times, but to scour the newspapers through that entire period would be completely impractical and futile. She could also check out the local newspaper offices in the region, maybe they could help. And as she pondered on those ideas, she suddenly realised that if a murder had taken place during that period, the perpetrator would have been hanged. So she could try police records, criminal records, records of hangings - the list was lengthening. Surely somewhere amongst it all, she would discover something. However, she wouldn’t find it easy. For a start she didn’t have a name, so how could she find records of the hanging of an unidentified man? She didn’t have a date, although she could possibly narrow it down to the Mid-Victorian period of say eighteen forty six to maybe eighteen eighty six; that would at least reduce it down to forty years of searching for starters. If she stuck to that measure of time for now, it may, or may not, pay dividends, and if it didn’t she would have to expand the time frame. But she would worry about that later, and get on with it as soon as she could.
Kelly popped round to Francine’s after work. They greeted each other with a hug and Kelly was led into the sitting room. Francine was pleased to see how much brighter and happier her mood was since they had last met.
“Coffee or wine?” asked Francine.
“Coffee for now, thanks.”
As Francine disappeared into the kitchen, Kelly sat down and picked up a magazine.
“How are things?” Francine called to her.
“Great, I’ve got lots of news.”
“That sounds promising,” said Francine, as she brought two lattes through and put them down on the coffee table. She relaxed back in her chair and waited in anticipation.
“So - tell me. I’m all ears.”
“Well, for starters, I want to ask you if you fancy coming to York to-morrow, I’m going on a shopping spree.”
“That sounds great - yes, I’m free, I’ve got nothing planned. Are you shopping for anything special?”
“I want something to wear which will be suitable for both business and pleasure.” Kelly beamed.
“Hmm, that sounds interesting – tell me more.”
Kelly proceeded to tell her all about Matthew, how they’d met, and their proposed luncheon date. Francine was thrilled for her.
“Matthew is an architect primarily, but also has another business interest with his partner. They own a property development company. They buy up land which contains old barns and farmhouses which are ripe for conversion.”
“And who’s the partner?” Francine asked with interest.
“I know nothing about him except he’s an Estate Manager for a country estate on the borders, which consists of a range of converted buildings, including cottages and mill conversions such as watermills and corn mills, plus a few farmhouses. But the estate owns a lot of prestigious offices too, all of which are on the site which he runs. Matthew did all the plans for the conversions. I know it well because we’ve had some dealings with the site over the years.”
“Wow! Sounds impressive! Tell me more about his partner, is he married?”
“To be honest, I know nothing more than what I’ve told you – about either of them.”
“Well if he’s single and available, and half as good-looking as you have just described Matthew - tall, dark and handsome, with chiselled features – then I’d like an introduction,” she teased.
“Well I’ve hardly got to know Matthew yet, so I think you’re being a bit previous.”
“Maybe, but I shall live in hope whilst you’re trying to find out more about him for me,” Francine giggled. “Anyway, getting back to something more serious, the shopping trip to-morrow, I could do with something new to wear myself. I’ve got a dinner coming up in a few weeks, so I’ll need something for that.”
“Great, that makes it more worthwhile. At least you don’t need to worry about hanging around whilst I do all the looking. Shall we set off early – say, eight o’clock?”
“I think so then we can grab breakfast at Hettie’s – or maybe brunch?”
“We’ll have to be at the early doors for Hettie’s if we’re to avoid the queues. I think it’s going to be a great day, I’m really looking forward to it.” Kelly downed her latte. “Well I’d better get off then. I’ll need an early night if we’re to set off so soon.” She rose out of her seat and they both walked to the door making their arrangements to meet the next morning, before finally saying Goodnight.
Both women arrived in York early enough to park up and make their way to Hettie’s before the queues began. It was a dull day, but that wouldn’t deter the Saturday shoppers swarming in soon, or the coaches arriving with their day-trippers. Hettie’s was pleasantly quiet and they were lucky enough to get a seat in the window, which meant they could watch everything going on as they chatted. They ordered coffee from the waitress, who served it whilst they browsed the menu. The fresh coffee aroma would tempt even the harshest of coffee critics, as it was the best for miles around. They took their time ordering food so they could just relax and soak up the atmosphere, whilst watching people of all ages and nationalities coming through the doors.
After deciding what they were having for breakfast, the waitress took their order. As they sipped their coffee Francine pulled out a card from the menu holder and began to read it with interest.
“There are some interesting theme nights coming up. They’ve got something lined up for Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day - and even Easter already.”
“They’re very good, and as you can see the price includes dinner.” Kelly explained.
“Yes, I can see that – plus entertainment too! Have you ever been to any of them?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Was it any good?”
“Err – yes,” Kelly hesitated.
“What does that mean?”
“We-ell, it was a ghost evening.” She smiled as she waited for Francine’s reaction.
“A ghost evening, what on earth was that?”
“It was a candlelit dinner, on a Halloween evening, in a room upstairs. As you know it faces York Minster which was all lit up. A local historian read ghost stories to us all, which by candlelight was meant to be scary – if you go for that kind of thing. They were ghostly tales experienced by people around York, dating back centuries.”
“And were they scary?”
“To some people they must have been, I heard a few gasps around the room.”
“So who were you with?”
“It was a sort of – date. Remember Brad?”
“Not Goldsmith?”
“That’s the one.”
“So, go on. This I must hear.”
“I think he was a bit desperate. He’d bought two
tickets and whoever he was meant to be going with – wasn’t going anymore.”
Francine laughed. “Don’t tell me he was stood up!”
“No not really. She came down with the flu. It’s always fatal making plans in advance for that time of year. It’s the flu season isn’t it?”
“And so he asked YOU?”
“Don’t look too surprised Fran, and yes – I was his last resort. He had to be desperate to ask me, he knows he’s not my type.”
“I can’t believe that out of his string of women, he had to swallow his pride and ask you. What happened to all the rest of them?”
“Haven’t a clue! Anyway, he was well-behaved. I had an interesting night out with a meal thrown in – even if I did choose to pay him for my ticket.”
“You’re kidding me!”
“No, I’m quite serious. But to be fair to him, he was reluctant to take the money.”
“I’ll bet he was! Once he pays he expects something in return.”
“Don’t you think I knew that?” Kelly said mischievously. “Anyway, it was very interesting because the stories involved the history of York, and all the back streets, and alleyways, and historic buildings, which were all identified by the reader. And to give her credit, the historian would explain where each incident happened and the history surrounding it. And if you can separate the myth from the historic nature of the tales, it was all quite fascinating. Needless to say I didn’t feel any shivers down my spine – or silent taps on the shoulder.”
“You realise you were risking your reputation dating Brad? Any woman seen in his company is considered to be another of his conquests.”
“Well no-one would know him around here, would they? Or me for that matter! He probably wouldn’t have asked me otherwise. Anyway, people can speculate what they want, I don’t really care.”
Francine nodded in agreement and at that point the waitress returned to the table with their meals. As they got stuck into their food the place began to fill up, and it wasn’t long before the pianist arrived to entertain them all with some very pleasant music.
Once they had eaten and paid their bill, they wandered round to The Shambles to explore their favourite shops. They had lots of fun and laughs along the way, each of them in a happy and relaxed state of mind. They both tried on quite a lot of outfits before finding the one they wanted. Shopping completed, they put their packages in the car and then strolled back until they found a good bookshop to browse round. After choosing what they wanted, they joined the queue with their collection of books.
“I noticed you’ve got a collection of crime stories there Fran.”
“Yes, I like a good detective story.”
“Especially if they’re true,” Kelly added, as she noticed they were all non-fiction.
Francine chose not to answer that. She wasn’t sure if Kelly had suspected her reasons for choosing true crimes or not, so she kept quiet on the subject.
The queue was growing in number and the two women were thankful that they were nearer the front than the rear.
“This is a busy place isn’t it? I’m always reading that bookshops are closing in droves,” Francine said in a low voice.
“Obviously this one doesn’t figure in the statistics,” Kelly responded at the back of her.
“The one in Ilkley is just the same,” was Francine’s hushed reply. “I think a lot of people go in there just to browse. They always seem to have books you don’t see anywhere else,” she continued, still keeping her voice down whilst constantly watching for her turn in the queue. “And if they don’t have what you’re looking for, you can simply order it and they’ll get it for you.”
“No doubt it’s a great service for many, but I normally always shop on the internet for mine.”
“Yes, but think of those who don’t have access to the internet.”
“Are there any?” Kelly whispered in a surprised tone.
“Well my granny for one.”
“Yes of course, I suppose there are a lot of older people still living behind the times. I’m not saying that to be unkind, or facetious in any way, it’s just that our generation takes everything for granted. For us, everything is so easy.” Kelly shuffled up the queue behind Francine.
“Well I must confess, I still prefer to have a good browse in a bookshop. I do tend to order a lot of out-of-print ones off the internet, it’s great for that…” she broke off as she found herself at the counter. “Oh, brilliant – we’re there, my turn.” Francine dropped her books on the counter.
“Good selection,” said the assistant, whilst running each title through the till. “I love a good detective story. Do you live local?” she asked in a friendly but not inquisitive manner.
“Not quite, we’re from Skipton.”
“Ooh lovely,” she replied. “Well you’ve come to the right place if you’re interested in reading about true crimes. We’re certainly not short of grisly tales of murder in this city, I can assure you,” she remarked, as she packed the books in a customised bag. She took payment and then continued the conversation with Kelly. “You’ve come a long way to buy books. Do you go to the one in Ilkley? That’s nearer to you isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is, but we came to York to do some shopping and to eat at Hettie’s.”
“Ah yes, Hettie’s! Everyone comes here for Hettie’s. There’s one in Ilkley I believe. Haven’t been to it myself though - place your card in the machine dear.” She gave Kelly the receipt and her books neatly packed in a bag, and then moved on to the next customer repeating the same friendly banter.
They left the bookshop and headed for the car. It was three o’clock by the time they drove out of the car park and set off on their journey home. The time had passed swiftly for both of them. They were pleased with their outfits and their books, and they’d had a good meal at Hettie’s. All in all it had been a very good day, leaving them both in good humour for the rest of it.
8
IThe next few months passed quickly and as May approached so did the milder weather, raising everyone’s hopes for a better summer than the last one. Kelly had been completely engrossed in her new relationship with Matthew and had given no further thought to the horrors of that day at The Grange. Her dealings with Matthew were twofold. They normally met up for dinner every other week on a private basis, and occasionally for lunch, but the remaining contact was purely for business. It suited Kelly well, as she had little time left for socialising after her busy days at work and Matthew seemed to be in the same position. His business interests took him abroad quite a lot, so they were both compatible inasmuch as their work lives were busy ones.
Francine had got nowhere in her search for the truth about The Grange. She was still convinced that Kelly had witnessed a real-life murder from the past, and was resolute in her determination to keep on searching. She had tried the library archives for old news of a murder, but had failed in that line of enquiry, and she had exhausted every other avenue. She knew she must be missing something, but that something was managing to evade her. She had no idea what propelled her determination to carry on searching, after all Kelly was doing very nicely without her intervention –thank you very much. Better to forget the whole thing as Kelly seemed to have done. So why bother? The truth was - she was concerned about her friend. She may well have got over it for now, she had Matthew to take her mind off things. And maybe that should be a good enough reason for her to give up the search too. Let Kelly lean on him – as long as he’s there to catch her if she falls. But what if he isn’t? If she falls for him in a big way and he doesn’t return the commitment, what happens then? The shock could send her overboard again, and this time she may not survive it. Kelly was vulnerable, so if Matthew had to let her down and break off the relationship – or the depth of feeling was not reciprocated, she may not be emotionally strong enough to cope, particularly if she was still convinced that her experience at The Grange had been due to a reoccurrence of her hallucinati
ons.
So what good would it do if she did find anything out about The Grange? How was that going to help her dear friend? Francine didn’t know the answer, except that if Kelly had another emotional trauma, added to her dreadful encounter at The Grange, she may feel pressurised to go back on antidepressants, and Francine didn’t want Kelly to take that step backwards.
If she could convince Kelly that she’d simply had a flashback of something which had happened in the past, something which could have happened to anyone in a place such as that dreadful abandoned mansion, surely she would realise that it had nothing to do with her previous breakdown. And if it had been just one isolated incident, which would never happen again, there was no reason why Kelly couldn’t remove it from her mind altogether and have a fresh start.
And so she had no intentions of giving up.
But when Francine continually came up against a blank wall, and had more or less run out of options, the unbelievable happened. She picked up a local newspaper and the last thing she expected to see on the front page was an article about the purchase and refurbishment of The Grange.
Bought a few months earlier by a big hotel group and aimed at the hospitality business, it was going to be offered for weddings as well as being hired out for corporate team-building events, conferences, and the leisure industry. But the most exciting news of all was their intention to restore the original library and offer it as a venue for literary events and book reading clubs. And although the refurbishment was not yet complete, they were inviting interested parties to register their interest and enrol for membership - no doubt to test the demand well in advance.
Francine was ecstatic – this was just the break she needed.
She had never anticipated a visit to the troubled mansion - it was the furthest thing from her mind. It was ironic that such an opportunity would present itself, and so unexpectedly out of the blue. And who could have ever imagined that she would get the chance to actually visit the library, where the horror for Kelly had started in the first place? Someone there was bound to be able to throw some light on the history of the building, and if there was anything to discover surely they would know. Anyone buying a grade two listed building is likely to know who the previous owners were, and what events had taken place in the past. And more importantly, what it was that had driven successive generations to flee the mansion and to eventually abandon it altogether. The answer must be there somewhere.