by Peppi Hilton
“Coffee?” asked Kelly, as she led Francine into the kitchen.
“Yes please,” she replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. She had noticed the moment she arrived how subdued Kelly seemed to be – which was unusual for her.
As Kelly prepared coffee for them both, Francine noticed the bottle of pills on the table, alongside which was a half empty bottle of Red and a drained wine glass. Seeing them there prompted her to question Kelly about the medication.
Kelly did not respond immediately, she passed a mug of coffee to Francine and sat down opposite her. She lifted the mug to her lips and sipped at the coffee, before finally putting it down and offering an explanation.
“You remember the night of the party,” she began.
“I remember some of it, the rest is just a blur,” laughed Francine.
“Well …” she hesitated. “When I got back home, the hallucinations began again. They were quite horrific.”
Fran was horrified, particularly as Kelly had not chosen to share the experience with her at the time. But she didn’t speak, she let her continue.
“It was him again. He reappeared exactly as he was at The Grange, and I felt as if my mind was somehow being controlled by him. I can’t explain it. I knew that my own demons were responsible, running around in my head, taunting me, trying to make me go crazy. And I felt that I would if I didn’t do something about it. So I went to see my psychiatrist.”
“What did he say?” was Francine’s first reaction.
“He said a lot really, but it wasn’t helpful. I insisted he prescribe my medication again.” She picked up the bottle and looked at it wistfully. “I always thought of myself as a strong person Fran, but the incident at The Grange has taken its toll.” A silent interlude followed before Kelly continued. “I never thought I could go back to that dark place again, in which I spent all that time trying to come to terms with losing mum and dad. I can’t go back there - really I can’t. I just couldn’t fight it again … to be honest I would probably just choose to end it all.” She was becoming emotional and close to tears.
Francine knew that suicidal tendencies were a side effect of antidepressants, and there was no doubt that Kelly was just not her normal bouncy self.
“Has the medication helped?”
“Yes, it has - really.” Kelly looked up, her face brightening. “I’m sorry to be such a misery guts Fran. I guess it must be the usual problem of working too hard. But in order to take the time off to fly out to Matthew, I need to get everything straight in order for the work to continue whilst I’m away, which means longer hours each day. I’m probably getting run down.”
“I understand Kelly. Life’s tough, it really is, but once you’re in America everything will be fine and you can recuperate. Just take it steady with the alcohol. Drugs and alcohol don’t mix well and the result will only make you feel worse.”
Kelly picked up the bottle of wine and stared at it, whilst cradling it in her hand.
“I know you’re right.” She put it back on the table, but offered no assurance that she would take any notice of Fran’s advice.
As for Francine, she had to admit that Kelly must have been right from the very beginning. She couldn’t have entered a time warp at The Grange, as she had first thought, because if she had, it could not repeat itself in her own home - the time slip could only occur in the place where it had begun. She hoped that the three month sabbatical would make Kelly well again and that her future with Matthew would become more permanent.
“You know where I am if you need me. You mustn’t keep things to yourself, problems like this need to be shared.”
“I know.” Kelly’s words were beginning to slur a little. The effect of the wine on top of the drugs was beginning to show, and she looked ready to fall asleep.
“I’m going to leave you, so you can get an early night. You look like you’re ready for one and I don’t intend to hold you up. I’ll let you know when I can come round and sort out those files for you. I’ll do it before you go away, so that no more damage can occur.”
They hugged at the door and Kelly reassured her that she would go to bed early. Francine lingered outside long enough to hear her lock up, before walking back to her own apartment.
But she was very troubled.
11
IFrancine received an email advising her that her membership for the Reading Club at The Grange had been accepted and that her membership information pack would follow in the post. She received it a couple of days later and in it was a special invitation to the Open Day, which was to take place a week before. The Open Day offered an opportunity to take a tour of the entire complex and all of the facilities, but she knew she would be in court that day, so she wouldn’t be able to make it. But the first meeting at the Reading Club was on a Saturday, which suited her fine. She still hadn’t mentioned it to Kelly, although she had intended to do at the right moment - but somehow that moment never came. She wasn’t sure how Kelly would react and in many ways she felt as if she were being disloyal by even going there, even more so now that she had been told about the apparitions in her apartment, thereby annihilating any suspicions Francine first had of ghostly encounters. So she was beginning to question whether or not there was any point in her going to the reading club after all. Although she loved books, apart from holidays she had very little leisure time for reading – except for legal stuff, and there was plenty of that to keep her occupied; so there was nothing to be gained by meeting up with a crowd of literary buffs and having chats with each other about their ‘book of the day’ over cups of tea. Unless of course they offered wine and nibbles for a beginning, so that they could get to know one another better before venturing forth to the library for their chosen read. But as her curiosity had been somewhat suppressed since Kelly had told her of the recent goings on in her flat, and as her time was precious with very little of it to spare, the trip to the reading club was beginning to feel like a total waste of time. Added to which, she would have to find a good excuse for not taking a book home with her, because if she did take one she would have to go back again to return it - and she hadn’t really considered that before now. Maybe it would make more sense to just cancel the membership. The cost wasn’t that important to her, and if she didn’t go there in the first place, she wouldn’t need to worry about making excuses to a bunch of people with whom she was certain she would have nothing in common. But when the day came, she decided she would go anyway, out of sheer good manners.
The drive to The Grange was along a beautiful scenic route, which was unlike the journey which Kelly had described - and she remembered that description as if she had done it herself. A new road had been created by ploughing through the fields belonging to the vast estate and therefore she approached the property from a different side altogether. When the refurbished mansion came into view, no-one could fail to be impressed at the first sight of it in the distance along its lengthy driveway. Everything was looking pristine and new. A large sign-written board clearly identified, with arrows, where each facility could be found. The Reading Club was to the rear of the main house, via a sweeping driveway which was undoubtedly new. It had been very well signposted all the way, and the directions to each facility were easy to follow. Her sharp eye had taken in a lot of the information en-route. The signs directing people to the main reception at the front of the hotel were for weddings, conferences, accommodation, and dining, whereas the leisure complex was to the rear. She also identified that work was still ongoing in the grounds. The fir trees were being felled and cleared, and it looked like a logging centre with all the activity from tree surgeons, loggers, and vehicles piled high with tree trunks. She was glad she had come, as the whole concept was a spectacle worth seeing, but most of all she saw it as a potential venue for entertaining her clients which she often had to do. The Grange was an amazing property, and she realised that it probably bore very little resemblance to what Kelly had visited in its half-derelict state, al
l those months ago. It was just a pity that she wasn’t with her to-day to see it in all of its glory. Of course knowing Kelly as she did, she would probably cringe at the newness of it all, even though the planning would have been very strict due to its grade two listing. But with replacement windows and doors, and stripped of all its ivy, its refurbished façade looked immaculate and the whole place was buzzing with excitement. It was a sight to behold.
She drove into the car park and checked the time, she was early. As she looked around she couldn’t help but wonder which door Kelly had escaped from when the dreadful demons had appeared to haunt her, for she knew now that it was just as Kelly said - all in her mind. She tried to imagine the atmosphere which must have prevailed that day, as the derelict mansion, isolated from the world and battered by the elements, lay hidden from even the remotest of human habitation. Looking at its prestige condition now, made it impossible to visualise it any other way. But although the detailed description given to her by Kelly was permanently sealed into her memory, there was no similarity now and in time that former image would be erased forever. And that could only be a good thing.
She got out of the car and headed towards the entrance, where she was met by a group of other people who were congregating in a small reception area. A smart woman, wearing a grey striped trouser suit accompanied with a crisp white shirt and with a name badge clipped to her lapel, probably in her thirties, greeted Francine with a smile as she asked for her membership token. A quick glimpse ahead and she saw a labelled notice attached to a wall, identifying the way to the library through a door only a few metres away from where she was standing. She quickly scanned the faces of the waiting group, who were of mixed gender and race, and decided that they didn’t look so unacceptable after all; as a matter of fact, many of them looked quite interesting and they were all chatting lightly. She stood with the rest them as they all waited for the remaining members to arrive, and joined into the conversation, most of which was about their first impression of The Grange, and how they had no idea that it existed until now. Several more people arrived and checked in, and soon they were all being escorted through the door and along a corridor which eventually led them into the library. Most of them gasped at the sheer splendour and grandeur of the room. Francine could see it just as Kelly had described, except it had evidently been restored to its former glory. Many of the bookshelves were empty, but a small area had been reserved for the group and there looked to be a good selection of books to be waded through. The area which had been set aside for the sole use of the reading club was very pleasantly furnished with comfy chairs and reading tables. A large platform table covered with a white banqueting cloth was positioned against a wall and filled with cakes, pastries and sandwiches, various meats and salads, all arranged buffet style, as well as tea and coffee pots, crockery and cutlery, and stiffly laundered white cotton napkins. Two young waitresses were on hand to serve drinks, which Francine was pleased to see also included wine glasses and a selection of wines.
The young woman, who introduced herself as Lydia, suggested everyone take a seat wherever they liked, whilst she sat at a desk and chair which had been positioned out at the front so that she could address them all. She began by making an ambitious attempt to introduce the group of members to each other, but they all failed to remember who was who by the time she had done. She explained how the reading club worked and asked if anyone had any questions, to which various participants responded by showering her with obviously more than she had anticipated. After half an hour of vigorous FAQ’s, Lydia went on to explain that once every three months there would be regular literary events held at The Grange, which consisted of a five course dinner, at least one well known author as guest speaker, and the opportunity of purchasing a signed copy of the author’s latest book. This was followed by a buzz of excitement, as they all conferred with each other.
It was suggested that a break be taken and anyone wishing to help themselves to food and drink, to do so. Fran went along with that too, and filled her plate with a variety of cured meats and bread rolls, along with a glass of wine. She had taken a seat with three other members, two men and a woman, and they all seemed to be getting along fine. Once again she felt it was a pity that Kelly hadn’t been here with her to share it all. She knew she would love it.
After everyone’s thirst and hunger was replenished, they were all invited to browse through the bookshelves and choose a book, or books, if they wanted to, or alternatively choose their books at the next meeting once they were familiar with how everything worked. They all dispersed and made their way to the category of their choice, and Francine headed for the non-fiction side to seek out anything she could find on true crimes from the Victorian era. Not expecting to find anything of interest, now that Kelly had proven to her that she had been truly suffering from hallucinations and not ghostly apparitions, Francine took very little notice of the titles, seeing how unlikely it was that she would be returning to the meetings. But browse she did, until her eye caught an interesting book which was entitled: Recorded hangings in England and Wales during the Victorian period. She withdrew it, flipped the pages, and casually glanced through its contents. Her main intention had been to convince the others that she truly was participating, so that they would think she was seriously interested; she wasn’t of course, until her attention was caught by the heading: Wolfgang Alfonse Gottschalk 1869 Meat Cleaver Murder. She stopped at the page and stared at it; it was too thought-provoking to brush aside as mere coincidence. She glanced through the book from beginning to end, but there was nothing else recorded other than the information she had just read, however it was sufficient to arouse her curiosity. She pulled a pen and pad from her bag and jotted it down, with the intention of checking it out later on the internet. She continued to look through the range of books but had now completely lost interest after finding that intriguing snippet of information. And whilst it may not be in the slightest way connected to Kelly’s apparitions, there was the equal possibility that it could be. So her visit to The Grange might not be such a waste of time after all.
Francine wasted no time when she got back home in searching for more information on the internet about the Meat Cleaver Murder. Her investigative skills were pretty sharp, as they had to be in her profession, but nevertheless she was disappointed in the results. Seemingly there had been more than one meat cleaver murder during the Victorian period in different parts of the country, so they were not uncommon; they were all unsolved except for the one she had discovered in the book relating to Wolfgang Alfonse Gottschalk. He had been hanged in 1869 for the brutal murder of a young girl called Olga Peterson, whose mutilated body had been discovered at Hill House in the North of England. There was nothing to connect it to The Grange, so as far as Francine was concerned it was a closed book; there was no link that she could discover apart from the period and its geographic location, which of course covered a very wide area. She had to finally admit, once and for all, that Kelly was suffering from mental and physical exhaustion, which must have triggered the hallucinations for which she had sought medical help. She felt deep pangs of guilt at having doubted her friend’s judgement, and a little foolish at having fallen into the trap of melodramatic and over-imaginative speculation about ghostly encounters. She must make it up to Kelly and convince her that she was on her side, and had only ever had her well-being at heart. There must be no misunderstanding between them, even more so now that she was going away and may choose not to return if her plans with Matthew become more permanent in America. The first course of action she took was to arrange a mutually convenient date with Kelly, to spend a day sorting out the files in her loft and packing them safely into the plastic storage boxes which she had left up there for her. The day they arranged was for the following Sunday afternoon.
Francine arrived at Kelly’s place at three in the afternoon, and the arrangement was to have a take-away together, once she had finished in the loft. Kelly got on with some jobs, whilst Francin
e sorted through the cardboard filing boxes and labelled the plastic ones accordingly. They would talk to each other frequently through the open hatch, and they shared a few moments together in the kitchen now and then, to have the occasional latte. Things were running smoothly. Francine was getting on like a house on fire, collating all of the material and packing it into the containers so that it would be easy to refer to should Kelly ever feel like she could face it in the future. And time passed swiftly.
“How are you doing up there?”
“I’ll be finished soon. I’m on the last box. I’m gathering together all the scattered papers which have been strewn around, fortunately none appear to be damaged.”
“That’s good. Shall I order the take-away now then?”
“That’s a good idea. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, that won’t be necessary, it’s only round the corner and they’re pretty prompt. If I order now, by the time I walk round to collect it, it will be ready.”
“Well you’ve got my order and thinking about it is making my mouth water. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was getting. There’s nothing like a good curry to whet the appetite.”
Kelly rang her order through to the Indian Restaurant just by the canal, and they told her it would be ready in ten minutes. She prepared the cutlery and drinks, grabbed her coat, and walked round for her order, arriving only a few minutes before it was ready.
In the meantime, Francine was clearing up the final documents from off the floor when she came across a Family Tree, sketched out by hand on a large white sheet of paper. A highlighted piece of text caught her attention, and for a moment she was stunned. It read: 1868 Olga Peterson – murdered. She stopped what she was doing and just stared at it, and then quickly gathered her thoughts together. As she speed read the contents, it was clear that it related to Kelly’s Swedish ancestors and there was no doubt that somehow she was interrelated to the murdered girl. She looked on the reverse and saw some scribbled notes about Olga. Francine was shocked and totally confused. Her mobile phone was in her pocket, so she withdrew it and took a photo of the document both back and front and emailed it to her desktop. It was too important to ignore and whilst it didn’t make sense right now, it was bound to fall into place once she carried out further investigation. She didn’t want to trouble Kelly with it at the moment, there was nothing to gain by that, but she knew that it must somehow lead back to The Grange and the horrific encounter which Kelly was subjected to. It was beyond her imagination as to how it was all connected, but her gut feeling told her that it was.