by Blythe Baker
“I thought it would go away on its own,” he admitted. “Knowing nothing of pregnancy, I thought hysterics might be one of the symptoms. Something to do with exhaustion. So, I did my best to make Catherine comfortable in hopes things would ease when the baby arrived. I thought the joy of our child would distract Catherine from her feelings and put everything right again, but…”
Charles looked up at the house, and I could see the loss in his eyes. It was a grief…a mourning for what could have been.
“But things grew worse?”
“Much worse. Much, much worse.” He dropped his hands and rested his head back against the seat, his eyes closed. “The birth was traumatic. The doctor barely delivered the baby alive, and Catherine lost so much blood. I thought I was going to lose them both.”
Charles had always been a stoic man, so seeing his lip tremble with emotion brought a sudden mistiness to my own eyes. I blinked it away, trying to remain strong. For him and for Catherine.
“But she is all right?”
“Physically, yes,” he reiterated. “The doctor successfully delivered Hazel and tended to Catherine. She was so strong, Alice. You would have been proud. Catherine nursed our baby within an hour after delivery, even while she could barley open her eyes. I’d never seen such strength. Such resilience. The doctor, too, was amazed by her tenacity.”
“That sounds like Catherine,” I said with a small smile. Charles returned it, but the memory leeched away, light and color draining from his eyes like the setting sun.
“Having Hazel has helped pull Catherine through, I’m sure, but she hasn’t fixed everything.”
“Is Catherine still seeing things?” I looked back to the house just as a shadow moved across an upstairs window. Whoever had been standing there was gone now, but the curtain swayed in their wake. I wondered if it was Catherine.
Charles shrugged. “I think so, but she won’t tell me anything. Not anymore. I’ve lost her trust.”
“How?”
“By not moving our family as soon as she asked.”
“She was pregnant,” I said, reaching out to comfort him once again. “Moving would have been a large upheaval. Surely Catherine doesn’t blame you for staying.”
“She didn’t until the accident.”
I pulled my hand back and blinked. “What accident?”
Rather than answer my question, Charles threw open his door and climbed out of the car. He reached into the backseat to free my case from where it was wedged. We met at the front of the car, the engine making clicking sounds at it cooled down from the drive.
“What accident?” I repeated.
“I’ll let Catherine tell you more,” he said. “No one knows what happened out there. Maybe not even Catherine. But she will not talk to me about it anymore.”
I looked back up at the house, wishing I could know all of its secrets. Instead of answers, I saw only cracks in the façade. From a distance, they were not visible, but up close, things were beginning to flake away. Paint chipped around the window frames, weeds grew up in boxes where flowers had once been, and dust collected on the steps and the walkway with no one to sweep it away.
The house was of a good size and build, but the vastness of the heather fields seemed to overwhelm it. Rather than sitting proudly on the hill, the ground seemed to be wrapped around the edges of the house, swallowing it up bit by bit until there would be nothing left soon.
I couldn’t be certain how much of my assessment was based upon the ominous information Charles had just divulged, but the fact remained either way: the house gave me an eerie feeling, and I couldn’t blame Catherine for wanting to get away.
When Charles pushed open the front door and ushered me inside, I had to admit the interior of the home felt much cozier than the exterior.
There was a large stone fireplace in the sitting room to the right of the entrance, and I could imagine a nice evening curled up in one of the armchairs, a book in hand. Charles’ study sat behind glass French doors across the hall, and a dining room with a large wooden table and chairs was a bit further down. It was a comfortable home with a lot of potential for entertaining, which made it all the more strange that it was almost perfectly silent.
Then, there was the sound of water splashing, and I turned towards a swinging door that had to have been the kitchen. There were indeed other people in the house, though it didn’t sound like a full staff. Rather, it sounded like a single person doing the washing up.
“We want you to make yourself at home and stay as long as you like,” Charles said. He sounded more cheerful than he had outside, and when I looked up, he had a polite smile stretched across his face. I could see that it was false right away, but it was obvious he was trying.
I followed his lead and smiled in return. “Thank you. Is my room to be upstairs?”
“Yes, the maid readied your room this morning, so I will take your bags upstairs and allow you to get settled.”
He must have seen my frown and understood its reason. “Our staff here is small, but they are all efficient and loyal. Anything you require will be found and provided within reason.”
“Oh, what a shame. I planned to be entirely unreasonable.”
Charles looked over his shoulder at me and blinked for a second before he smiled. Clearly, he hadn’t been in a joking mood for a very long time. Then, he carried my luggage upstairs and bid me follow him. We were halfway up the stairs when I heard the humming.
The sound was faint, but the melody dipped low and held, singing mournful, slow notes. The song settled in my chest like a stone, threatening to drag me down. Suddenly, I didn’t want to go upstairs at all.
If Catherine was humming that kind of song, I didn’t want to go any further.
“My sister,” Charles said quietly. “She is in with the baby. I’ll introduce you later. She doesn’t like to be disturbed.”
My relief was replaced by questions—why was Charles’ sister already here if I’d only just been called for? And why would she hum a song like that to the baby?
Before I could ask any questions at all, Charles set down my case in front of a door and nodded towards it. “Your room during your stay.”
I thanked him, but then Charles added, “Catherine’s room is at the end of the hall if you wish to see her first.”
I’d wanted nothing more than to see my sister for weeks. I’d been desperate to get to her and learn the source of her troubles, but now my stomach dropped at the prospect. It all felt so real and personal. More than that, the idea of seeing Catherine in any kind of distress was unfamiliar to me. She’d always been strong and capable and tough.
I didn’t want to view my older sister in another way.
I debated my answer for only a second before I bent down, grabbed my case, and turned the handle of my door. “I want to freshen up before seeing her. I’m dusty from travel.”
Charles didn’t say anything, but he looked disappointed as he bowed his head and turned for the stairs. I shut my door quickly and pressed my back against it, taking deep breaths.
I didn’t believe in ghosts in the slightest, but being in this house gave me doubts. Five minutes inside, and I’d been reduced to a shivering coward.
What could be the explanation for that?
3
The guest room had a small fireplace and embers glowed in the center, signifying a once burning fire. The first thing I did was lay a couple small logs into the hearth and poke them around until the embers could be coaxed back into life. Warm flames licked at the dry wood as I walked a small circle around the room, admiring the space.
Or rather, inspecting it.
The plaster around the window was cracked, and I could feel a distinct breeze coming through the window and rattling the glass panes. Thankfully, after several weeks of sleeping on a ship with very thin walls, I didn’t think I’d have much trouble falling asleep.
Thick quilts were laid over the bed and the pillows were fluffed, but dust had collected in the corner
s of the room and the headboard and bedside table were both scratched and dented from years of use. The items looked too old to have been bought new by Charles and Catherine after their wedding. Had they been purchased with the house?
Regardless, they were in need of repair, and I wondered who was in charge of such things. Certainly not Charles. Though, I couldn’t truly discount it as an option.
I changed out of my walking skirt and jacket, and put on a pink cotton dress and long tan sweater, instead. Even if my surroundings were dreary and gray, I wanted to look cheerful. That was why I’d been called here, after all. To cheer Catherine up to the best of my abilities. A pop of color seemed like a good place to start.
Just after I’d buckled my shoes, Charles knocked at the door. I took a steadying breath, pressed a smile on, and met him in the hallway.
“I don’t mean to rush you. If you’d like to rest before we go in, then I’m sure Catherine would under—”
“No, I’m ready,” I said cheerfully. “I was just coming to look for you.”
That wasn’t true at all. If left undisturbed, I could have stayed in the room for an hour or more. Out of all the things I’d faced, having to be an emotional encouragement to my sister frightened me the most.
Charles walked towards Catherine’s door, but hesitated just outside, his hand hovering over the knob. Then, as if mustering his confidence, he nodded once and then pushed the door open.
I followed him in and then stopped in the doorway, mouth open.
The room was dark—the curtains pulled closed and the lights all low—but I could make out the shape of a woman in bed. Blankets were pulled up to her neck, her arms mummified to her sides. The only reason I could tell it was Catherine was because of the blonde curls that spilled across the blanket, longer than I’d seen them since I was a little girl.
“Mrs. Cresswell is resting.”
Another figure I hadn’t seen rose from a chair in the corner and stalked towards us, and I jumped back in surprise. Charles, too, I noticed, jumped.
“I’m sure she’ll want to wake long enough to see her sister,” Charles said.
The woman—petite with long gray hair twisted into a bun and a somber black dress—shook her head and grabbed the door, pushing it half-closed on us. Charles took a step back to avoid being hit and knocked me into the hallway.
“I’ll find you when she wakes.”
Charles opened his mouth to argue, but the woman closed the door on us both, and I heard it lock from the other side.
I would have been more surprised by the strange woman forcing Charles from a room in his own home—a room his wife was sleeping in—if I hadn’t been so shocked by the sight of Catherine in the bed.
It was hard to tell beneath the covers whether she looked well or if she was thin, but even in sleep, I saw the dark circles beneath her eyes. I saw the pale color of her lips and the thin quality to her skin.
She looked ill.
“You said she was physically healthy,” I said, staring at the door like I could see through it.
Charles let out a breath and turned for the stairs. I followed him several seconds later, not knowing what else to do.
“She is,” he said. “It is her mind that causes her trouble. Sleeping helps her.”
Of course, sleeping helped. Because she was unconscious while sleeping. No one could talk about hallucinations and seeing ghosts if they weren’t awake to see them.
“How often does she sleep each day?” I asked.
Charles walked into his study, leaving the door open behind him. He dropped down into his chair with a sigh and ran a hand down his face. There appeared to be a patch of gray hairs clustered at his temple, hiding amongst the blonde. “She takes several naps.”
“Every day?” I asked, trying to remember a time when Catherine had ever napped. “That cannot be normal. Have you spoken with a doctor? Sleeping that much could signify another issue? She looked pale. Perhaps, she is suffering with some illness and it is making her tired and delirious and—”
“She is given a sleeping draught several times a day,” Charles explained, holding up a hand to quiet my rush of concerns. “She takes it willingly, and it makes things easier.”
“On whom?” The charge was out of my mouth before I could pull it back in, and for the first time since we met at the train station, Charles didn’t look sad or tired. He looked angry.
His nostrils flared, and he stood up, palms flat on the desk. “I’ve done everything I can to care for your sister—my wife—and I am doing my best. There is a new baby to look after—”
“Who I still haven’t seen yet,” I added. I’d only just arrived, and biting my tongue seemed like the wise thing to do in this case, but I couldn’t do it. Not after seeing my sister wasting away in a dark bedroom. “And who was the woman in the room with her?”
“Nurse Gray,” Charles snapped back. “She has been caring for Catherine diligently for months.”
“Have you seen improvement?”
Charles pressed his lips together, and I knew the answer.
“Has she grown worse?”
His lips were mashed together so tightly they were white. I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “Something must be done, Charles. Catherine is wasting away up there.”
“You’ve only just arrived, Alice!” Charles snapped.
I stepped back, surprised by the outburst, and Charles released a sharp exhale through his nose. Then, he flopped down into his chair. “I’m sorry, but you don’t know the entire situation, Alice. Ask Catherine. Go and speak with her for yourself, and you’ll see what I mean. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“I would speak with her, but there is a woman guarding her bed.” My voice was still sharp, but I looked down at the floor as I delivered the words. I wanted to be angry and blame someone for the uncomfortable scene I’d witnessed, but it was clear to me that person couldn’t be Charles. He looked like a man fresh from battle, battered and exhausted. He needed help, which was why I’d been asked to come. Not to beat up on him even more. “I’m sorry.”
He waved my apology away. “Just try and help your sister. Please.”
“I’ll try my best.”
And I would.
As she said she would, Nurse Gray came down half an hour later to tell Charles that Catherine was awake. I overheard the announcement and rose from where I’d been waiting on the sofa in the sitting room.
When Nurse Gray turned from Charles’ study door to go back upstairs, she studied me with narrowed, assessing eyes for a second and then disappeared without a formal introduction.
“You go on ahead,” Charles said. “Catherine will be anxious to see you.”
“Don’t you want to come with me?” I didn’t know why, but I was nervous to go and see my sister on my own. Charles had said repeatedly she wasn’t ill, but Catherine looked ill lying in that bed, and I’d never been good around the ailing or grieving. The humanity of it left me feeling small and inconsequential, and I never knew what to say.
Charles shook his head. “I’ll see Catherine later. You are the one she has been waiting for. Go ahead. Nurse Gray won’t throw you out of the room for awhile yet. You’d better see Catherine while you can.”
His mouth turned up in a small smile, letting me know he was only teasing, but I wondered how much of it was a joke? Considering Nurse Gray had just thrown us both out of the room half an hour ago, I took Charles at his word and walked up the stairs to see my sister.
The door was cracked open, and I could hear voices on the other side. I hesitated outside the door to try and listen in on the conversation, perhaps hear something that would help me better understand what was happening in this house.
As soon as I pressed my ear to the door, however, the voices stopped.
“You may come in,” Nurse Gray said.
My cheeks reddened, and I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“Still eavesdropping after all these years?” Catherine
’s voice was creaky from sleep, and her eyelids were still heavy, but she was sitting up in bed now, the blankets pooled around her waist. “Will you ever grow out of those nasty habits?”
“Never,” I said, grinning as I crossed the room.
I could see now that Catherine was not thin or undernourished. In fact, she was still slightly round in the middle from having given birth only a few weeks prior. Still, her lips were dry and colorless. As if reading my mind, she licked them and waved for me to sit next to her on the bed.
As I approached, I looked to Nurse Gray, expecting her to tell me to keep my distance, but even though it looked like that was exactly what she wanted to say, my sister’s nurse sat back in her rocking chair and took up her knitting.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Alice. I’ve missed you.” Catherine grabbed my hand, and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d shared such an intimate moment.
My relationship with my sister had always been warm, but we teased one another and played. Rarely ever did we divulge our deepest feelings. It felt strange, but given the circumstances, I indulged.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said. “I came the second I received your telegram. I would have come sooner if you’d only told me…”
Told me what? That she was having hallucinations? That she was seeing ghosts?
The possibilities hung in the air between us, and I couldn’t give voice to any of them. I wanted Catherine to tell me the truth from her perspective.
“I can see by the look on your face that Charles has already spoken with you.” Catherine still wore a smile, but it was wistful, and she couldn’t hold my gaze. “I’m all right, Alice. Really.”
Nurse Gray took that moment to clear her throat, and I didn’t know whether it was a coincidence or her way of letting me know Catherine was not all right. Either way, I ignored it.
I wanted to tell the woman to leave, but it was Catherine’s room and she was Catherine’s nurse, and it didn’t feel like my place.
“There is no look on my face. I’m just tired from travelling,” I lied. “I’ve been on a ship for too many days to count. I’m not even sure what month it is.”