by Midge Cline
“14th century postulate who allegedly disappeared from here.” Gwynn answered for her friend.
“Postulates at the Manor house?” The medical examiner’s young assistant said with disgust. “And so young! That is just sick.”
“Postulate not prostitute.” The examiner laughed and rolled her eyes at her assistant. “Someone who is learning to be a nun. A paragon of youthful innocence and dedication to the Lord.” Turning to Bonnie she answered her question. “Dr. Browning will need to sign off that this is not a criminal investigation, as it is several centuries old, I am not certain the Crown will accept that statement from a person who lives here at the scene.”
“There are some historical references to her and her brother, they stopped by here on their way to an abbey, she had disappeared by morning and the Duke’s son and the Earl’s son, who lived here, killed each other in a duel on the front drive. Her whereabouts have been a regular unsolved mystery.” Gwynn explained.
“I will let the experts confirm all that.” The Medical examiner said as she packed up her equipment. “But, I would bet your mystery has been solved.” She turned to Albert, “Speaking of bets, see you at poker on Saturday. Tell your wife she is lovely, and not just because I said so either, buy her some flowers, don’t be an arse.” She laid a playful punch on the constable’s arm and motioned for her assistant to finish covering the remains and start hauling equipment out.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Albert said with a smile and a mock salute.
****
An hour later, Bonnie placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of Gwynn as they sat in the large kitchen.
“You are my hero.” Gwynn said with gratitude as she sipped the hot cup of heaven.
“Are you sure about having all of those kids here? I can have them camp out in our woods if you would rather.” Bonnie offered.
“No but thank you. I think the kids will want to do some amateur ghost-hunting tonight anyway. And I would not want to take that adventure away from them.”
“Your family seems rather keen on adventures.” Bonnie observed. “Colt is forever going on about ‘Binne in the African jungle, Binne mountain climbing.”
“And Binne trekking across the desert, spelunking in deep sea caves, white water rafting, survival camping in the Alaskan frontier, open ocean wind-sailing and even scaling Machu Picchu.” Gwynn added with a tired sigh. “I thought settling down at the Hall would bring us a calmer way of life. Oh, the irony!”
“Did you all have death wishes or are you just adrenaline junkies?” Bonnie asked with concern.
“Part of it was just the job, part of it was the excitement. And it never occurred to us that taking Binne along was even a bit odd, she has always been portable and adaptable.” Gwynn explained. “But then she fell at Machu, nothing major, a fractured ankle. But I was not feeling so well, feeling so tired, I blacked out while they were putting her cast on. Hit the ground hard. Seems I had caught a fever, a big bad jungle fever that did a bit of damage to my heart. I take meds now, and naps. A lot of naps. I can no longer accomplish the high impact athletics of my youth, and I have this fancy new piece of jewelry.” She held out her wrist to indicate the bulky watch she always wore. “It monitors my heart rate and tells the time and date too!” She laughed. “Sounds off if my heart goes too fast or even too slow.” She noted the panic and concern in her friends’ eyes and placed her hand on Bonnie’s arm. “It is okay, millions of people live with heart conditions every day. I have great doctors and I do what they tell me.”
“I feel like I should feed you.” Bonnie said quickly and rose to make lunch. “A nice pie? Or some quiche?”
“I think coffee and toast will be fine this morning.” Gwynn laughed.
****
“I can’t believe your folks agreed to this.” Malcolm said as he tapped a tent stake into the ground. “My parents would never have. In fact, they would have freaked had I asked.”
“Freaked? About camping 100 feet from your front door? In your own yard even?” Binne asked. “Besides, they just found a dead body in my room. Camping in the garden just seems pretty calm compared to that.”
“Nah,” He laughed. “For putting holes in the garden.” He inhaled deeply. “And they would not have been too keen about 2 lads and a girl sharing tents.”
“You mean three girls, Harry and Millie will be here soon enough.” Binne told him. “My parents are fine with that, and the holes in the garden.”
Tate Brooks appeared, a portable fire pit in his arms.
“You will not make any large bonfires, you will not leave the fire unattended, you will keep the fire extinguisher on hand, you will be responsible, or you will all answer to me. Understood?” He said firmly. “Malcolm, come with me to the house, I have things for you to bring back down.”
“Yes sir!” Colt and Malcolm answered in union.
“Yup.” Binne replied casually.
They finished setting up the small campsite an hour later. Folding camp chairs surrounded the fire pit, the tents set up a fair distance away.
Binne checked the batteries in her spelunking helmet, tested the headlamp and set it in the seat of her chair. Colt set the night vision camera Nigel had loaned them on a tripod and aimed it at the cemetery.
“You sure you know how to work this thing?” He asked Binne.
“Yeah, it is a pretty simple thing, let me show you.” Binne walked him through the workings of the camera.
“You are pretty good with these machines.” He noticed aloud.
“Yeah, I’ve had a fair bit of practice.” She admitted. “We have been to a lot of places, had a lot of “adventures” as my Mum calls them. I think we last used this one on an African safari. We have a larger version, but this one will do for tonight.”
“African safari? Wow.” He laughed. “We went to Dublin once. Not exactly an adventure.”
“We have been too many places, all over the world. I am looking forward to being in one place for a long time.” Binne said, “It is great, you know, having been to those places, but I have to say it is nice having a place I can say is my home. Haven’t had one before.”
“Not had a home?” Colt asked.
“Hotels, tents and camp sites. But never a home.” Binne said. “I didn’t know I needed one, ‘til I had one.”
“Colt, your mum sent me down with a basket of goods.” Malcolm appeared, laden with a large picnic basket and a small drink cooler. “She is afraid we will starve overnight.”
“She is afraid we will starve daily. Feeding is how she shows her love and concern.” Binne said.
“She will save the world, one stomach at a time.” Colt agreed with a laugh.
“I hope she sent down some of her scones, best ever!” Malcolm drooled.
“Oh look! Here comes Harry and Millie.” Colt announced, as he saw the twins strolling up the drive with backpacks and sleeping bags.
They settled into the two tents they had set up and gathered around the small fire to explore the contents of Bonnie’s basket.
“Binne, are you okay? I mean finding a dead roommate would be hard for anyone.” Harry asked Binne with a sad smile.
“I am good, I promise. I mean yeah it is a little unnerving, but I guess, the room is not really any different than when I didn’t know she was there.” Binne shrugged. “It’s not the first dead body I have seen, or been up close and personal with, my dad is an anthropologist after all, seen mummies and ancient bodies most of my life.”
“It is nearly nightfall, are the cameras ready to go?” Millie asked, changing the uncomfortable subject.
“Yes, we are all set up.” Binne told her.
Harry dug into her backpack and pulled out a small wooden board covered with letters and numbers.
“What the hell is that?” Malcolm asked.
“A spirit board? Seriously?” Binne’s voice trembled with a bit of fear.
“Yeah, I nicked it from our Aunt. It has been in her attic for simply ages. She will neve
r even know it is gone.” Harry said, brushing a wayward hair from her face.
“We can use this to ask the ghosties what they want.” Millie said, “We can talk to them and find out exactly who they are.”
“I don’t know.” Binne said with caution. “Aren’t those boards dangerous?”
“Pfft, whatever. I mean really what harm can it do to talk to them.” Harriet laughed. “Auntie says a ghost can scare you, but not actually touch you.” Millie added.
“How many has she met?” Binne asked.
“Okay, so I set up sound recorders in the graveyard and in the doorway of the tower. Malcolm set up one near where there have been reports of the sounds of sword fights.” Colt told them. Eyeing the board with suspicion. “Oh Hell no. We are not using that. Not tonight nor any other night. Especially not here.” He was adamant.
“Come on, Colt, don’t be a pansy.” Millie said.
“I agree with him.” Binne said.
“Me too.” agreed Malcolm.
“My Mum would have my head on a slab. I made her a promise about them, and not even you two will make me break that.” Colt said. His eyes hard and firm.
“Fine, but I am telling you, it is just harmless fun.” Harry sighed. She knew from experience that Colt Brooks would never break a promise made to his mother or anyone else. He just simply was not made that way.
“Let’s just tuck in to the basket, while it gets good and dark. Then we can get ready to wander in teams with our handheld cameras.” Binne said.
“Wonderful idea! I am practically starving.” Malcolm agreed.
****
“Are you sure they will be alright out there?” Bonnie asked as she sipped her tea in Gwynn’s kitchen.
“Quite sure, Colt has a good head on his shoulders, and Binne has camped in some seriously hard-core places. Our back garden is nothing.” Gwynn assured her. “It is not like they have to worry about snakes or lions or bushmen. They are good kids. And they are less than 100 yards away.”
“I know, but those Truman girls, they are so mature for their age. They have a bit of a reputation.” Bonnie whispered.
“We both know that reputations are not always accurate. Have they gotten Colt into any trouble before?” Gwynn asked.
“No, they haven’t, and to be honest Malcolm is such a dishrag that if they even tried to talk the others into doing something untoward he would rat them out in a moment.” Bonnie agreed.
“What is his story? He seems so much younger than the others.” Gwynn refilled their teacups and took a seat beside her near the window.
“There really are very few kids in the village.” Bonnie explained. “Malcolm, well actually the young Lord Malcolm Montgomery Wyndham Winter, he is actually a descendant of the original Wyndhams who have died here since the beginning of time. They are too far from the line to gain any of the monies or land from the title, I think some cousin has all that. But they still can hold the title as they wish. Which, they don’t. Malcolm’s parents own the land the market sits on, and a few other parcels here in the area. Nancy, his mum, went through childbirth once and decided that it just wasn’t her thing. Delbert, the father, is heavy into local politics and community. Good chap. Honest and fair.” Bonnie took a small bite of a scone from a plate on the table. “Malcolm is a good kid, more than a bit coddled, spoiled but not in the rotten way, more in the raising him to be incompetent way. Colt sort of took him under his wing, Colt taught him to fish and ride a bike, that sort of thing. How to be a real boy 101.” She laughed.
“And the Truman girls, they have a reputation?” Gwynn asked.
“Well, their mum died when she brought them into the world. The father sort of vanished around the time they were two, but not before he signed over their care to his mum and sister. They are dotty old ladies who run a tea and book shop in the next village. The girls are known for being disrespectful to adults, smoking, cutting classes, you know. Nothing major, not like nicking stuff or drugs or whatever. Just normal rebellious kid stuff.” Bonnie gossiped. Gossip was a hard thing for her, she heard much, but shared little. She knew Gwynn was asking out of love and protective instinct for Binne and even Colt. Somehow that made sharing the gossip acceptable.
“Okay then. We both know our kids better than anyone else. We know they will not be influenced much by their peers, they are too stubborn and independent for that. And I know Binne has the skills to survive anywhere, from the streets of Dubai to the jungles of Africa. I cannot let myself think that she would have any trouble in her own garden in the Irish countryside.” Gwynn watched her friends face. “So, tell me, what are you really worried about.?”
“Ghosts?” Bonnie laughed. “I know it sounds silly.”
“Not really, I mean we are here having tea in an ancient haunted castle while our children are out in the garden trying to catch Bogarts.” Gwynn laughed. They heard the front door open and the sound of footfalls on the hard-wooden floors.
“In the kitchen!” Gwynn called out. To Bonnie she said, “That was quick, Nigel must have driven at breakneck speeds to get the curry here that fast.”
“I don’t think that is Tate and Nigel.” Bonnie’s entire body tensed as she rose slowly to walk to the main hall. Her expression fearful yet calm.
Gwynn rose and followed her friend. They found no one in the hall. The heavy thud of footsteps on the stairs echoed against the high ceilings. They slowly followed the sound of the steps up the wide stairwell, the temperature suddenly dropping, allowing each breath to be visible, they followed along the hallway. The air filled with a heavy male scent, musk and oil. Thud, thud, thud. The sound stopped suddenly, they watched in awe as the floor bowed ever so slightly in front of Binne’s bedroom. The door handle turning and twisting, though no hand touched upon it. A soft rapping noise, as if someone knocked lightly at the heavy wooden door filled the hallway.
A bolt of icy cold fear moved down Gwynn’s spine.
“Who--who are you?” Her voice trembled only slightly as she spoke with fierceness born of fear. “What are you doing in MY house.”
A soft, low laugh replied to her, causing her skin to shrink and her breath to catch in her chest.
The noises suddenly stopped, the air warmed instantly, and the women knew that their ghostly visitor had fled. Silence fell heavy and was broken by the sudden slam of the front door and Tate’s voice calling out to them that dinner was served.
Bonnie and Gwynn were able to stifle the screams that nearly escaped them but were unable to stop themselves from jumping at the sudden sound.
“Holy Shit!” Tate exclaimed as the ladies explained their most recent adventure over curry in the dining room. “Just moments before we got here, you mean we just missed it! Damn I knew I should have driven faster.”
“Oh, yes. Add some more ghosts to the menagerie.” Bonnie scolded with her brows together.
“Have we found out anything more about the history of the house?” Nigel asked his wife.
“Actually, yeah. I was speaking with Margaret Sharpe this morning when she picked up her pastry order.” Bonnie told them. “She ran the local museum for absolutely ages, her husband was a historian in London before they retired. She mentioned that there have been several deaths in the house over the centuries. The most recent in memory was only 15 years ago, the farthest back to a stone mason when the house was mostly new. Reports of missing children in the area, suspected to be linked to the castle. Then of course the notorious disappearance of the postulate and the duel.” The
“Sharpe? Dr. Edwin Sharpe?” Nigel’s curiosity was suddenly peaked. “He is a huge name in historical societies. He is the foremost expert on the Anglo-Saxon wars on Irish soil.”
“Yes, that Sharpe, knowledgeable fellow, but a reputed lecher. Likes to grope the young women.” Tate said. “Some lesser noble, I think.”
“Well, I promise Gwynn and I will be cautious.” Bonnie said with a smile.
“Cautious?” Nigel’s eyebrows rose.
“Yes
, we have a meeting with him next week for afternoon Tea. We are going to see what tidbits of information he can shed light on.” Bonnie informed them all.
“We are?” Gwynn smiled broadly. “I simply adore cucumber sandwiches and tea with lecherous old men! I cannot wait.”
“You two be careful, you are not Rosemary and Thyme.” Tate laughed, referring to the popular television mystery series.
“We are not sleuthing!” Gwynn defended. “We are just meeting with people we don’t really know, to ask questions about things that happened in the past to solve a quandary about a possible violent death or two.”
“Right! Not sleuthing at all.” Bonnie put on her most innocent expression and smiled gently.
****
“Colt, Millie and I will go check out the path to the old stable house.” Harriet said to Malcolm. “You and Binne take the pond. We meet back here in thirty.”
“Not happening.” Colt said firmly. “I promised Mr. Morgan I would stick with Binne. I don’t break promises. Binne and I will take the pond, Malcolm goes with you two.”
“Fine.” Harry was clearly disappointed, but knew that arguing would do no good, and only serve to make her look like a fool, as well as hurt Malcolm’s feelings. “Film every step, you never know what you might catch.”
“And remember to keep your audio recorders on too, they might pick up something the videos miss.” Malcolm added.
Binne and Colt stood near the small patio table set midway between the pond and the ancient cemetery. The air smelled of the earthy odor of tree, dirt, stone and water playing on the wind. A family of foxes could be heard frolicking in the nearby underbrush. The moon, high above them, played a game of peek-a-boo through the trees with the pond, causing the water to glisten and sparkle with light. A night bird called to her young in the darkness.
“Wow.” Colt said softly, loathe to interrupt the night’s song. “It is like a different world at night.”
“The air is crisp and clear; the sounds are wild and calming.” Binne answered. “I have always loved to be outside at night.”