The Haunting of Violet Gray

by Emily Sadovna

  “Of course you are, boy. Are you sure you are not suited to something more manual? The Army perhaps? Flight Officer Mason, you can vouch for his character?” he said to Thomas.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Violet, my dear, you know this boy? Is he brighter than he looks?”

  “As bright as a button, sir.” She looked at Joe reassuringly.

  The officer’s companion briefly glanced at Joe before he became distracted. His composed aristocratic stance softened with a surprising look of adoration. Joe followed the man’s gaze to see the alabaster vision of Anne glide towards them. Anne forbade disclosure of her connection with Joe with a sharp look.

  “Darling, you were divine,” the man gushed. He gestured for her to sit on his lap. Suddenly, the unlikely gathering of mismatched faces stared dumbfounded and blinded by an unexpected glare of a photographer’s flash. In seconds, two men dressed in dark suits frogmarched the opportunistic photographer out of the door. Joe noticed Anne had scuttled away, and the man was hiding his face behind a newspaper from the staring crowds.

  The officer, keen to leave, said briskly, “Report to this address where you will receive a medical, and you will carry out several aptitude tests to assess your suitability. If you pass, you are required to carry out basic training, and then you may apply to train as a pilot cadet. Dismissed, Mason.” He passed Joe a name and address written in an elegant hand.

  Joe clumsily saluted and stepped away, treasuring the scrap of paper like a golden ticket.

  Violet pushed her arm through the crook of Joe’s and kissed him hastily on the cheek.

  “See, I told you it was worth coming; now you can save the world with magic and good old-fashioned firepower from the skies!”

  Joe turned to Thomas and thanked him for the introduction.

  “No problem at all, Moosh,” he said with a grin.

  Joe turned back to Violet. “How do you know those men? Why the press interest? Do you work for them at the base too?”

  Violet’s eyes glanced away to hide something from Joe. She then appeared to think better of it and looked at him squarely. “I fly for them sometimes, delivering messages, but also I met them when I worked for Lord Mountbatten at Broadland’s Estate in Romsey. The man with the moustache, whom you spoke to, is the air chief marshal of the RAF, Hugh Harrington-Davies. The taller, aristocratic fellow is, umm, actually His Royal Highness the Duke of Kent, Prince George. He is a dear friend of my mentor Crawley from my London days, the duke simply adores jazz. Rather infatuated with your ex too.”

  Tom and Joe stared at her like a couple of gormless fish.

  “Oh look at you two. George is a teddy bear really. He doesn’t like people to know who he is when he is out and about. Of course most people know who he is but have to pretend. Oh, another drink?” Violet splashed vodka into the boys’ cups.

  Joe glanced at the duke long enough to meet his glare. He flushed red with embarrassment.

  “You mean to say, you have just introduced me to the top dogs of the Royal Air Force and bloody royalty, and I acted like a clumsy fool. I didn’t bow or whatever I am supposed to do,” Joe said, seething.

  “You mustn’t breathe a word about my connection with the prince. If society and his family knew he was dabbling in witchcraft by using my skills, he would be exiled. The government and some of the royal family are all delighted to reap the benefits of our power, but to acknowledge us openly, to declare to the world powerful witches are helping them fight the war, is never going to happen. They would kill us first. We have to stay hidden in the shadows, a secret as it were.”

  “Why did you not tell me this before?”

  Violet straightened her back and met Joe’s challenge. “There is an awful lot about me I prefer not to disclose publicly. Besides, you never asked, well not directly, how I came to be here.”

  Joe raised his eyebrows, knocked back his drink and awaited her response. She implored Thomas, “Tommy, you tell him. I am always embarrassed to name drop and what not.”

  Joe looked at Thomas angrily, jealous of his secretive intimacy with his girl. Tom put his hands up defensively. “Your story to tell.”

  Violet glanced at her empty glass. “Tommy, see if you can hunt down something else to drink, darling.”

  Thomas shrugged and left.

  “Joe, I thought you might get a little intimidated by me if I was to tell you about myself too soon. You always seem so, I don’t know, awkward around me like you are in awe or something.” Violet looked uncomfortable.

  “Well. I was naughty as a child. I prefer to think adventurous and inquisitive. I was also blessed with magic, but I had no idea how to control it or what to do with it. I was lucky. My father’s family became rather rich from the insurance business. So where affection was absent, there was plenty of money, so he sent me down south with a cheque and an address for Crawley. We met him once on holiday to Sicily when I was twelve. Father thought him interesting and well connected and thought he could be the one to bring on my magic. When I arrived at his beautiful house in London, he was a naked as a baby having a terrible asthma attack in the bath. Luckily for him, I knew what to do because I have an aunt who suffered the same. Well, he thought I was his saviour, tore up the cheque on the spot and took me under his wing. Have you heard of Crawley?”

  “Nope.” Joe shrugged.

  “I learned all about the craft, managed my magic, and even found I was also a little gifted in the ‘seer’ department. I lived in Half Moon Crescent for a few years until I turned sixteen, took part in all manner of magical meetings and rituals, met all sorts. Then I met the duke who introduced me to Lord Mountbatten where I began working as his seer and interpreter of the occult. The war broke out, and I wanted to do my bit, so I joined the WAFS.”

  Joe stared at Violet; her story was another world from his grey world of the docks and dirt. “How do you know Granville?” he interrogated her further.

  “Oh dear old Granville. He is a funny little man, isn’t he? He was a friend of my uncle. I first met him at one of Crawley’s parties. It turned out he was incredibly clever; he was an adventurer. He had been all over the world, collecting treasure, also old weapons and relics of the occult. He wanted to use the craft for good. He wrote all sorts of books, and he hatched a plan to save England from Hitler. I thought it seemed a good idea, so I joined him travelling around the country convincing all the covens to join us whenever I was granted leave from the base.”

  Thomas returned with a bottle of dodgy looking brew. “Best I could do.”

  “Well, you could thank me for the introductions,” Violet said, smiling.

  Joe had almost forgotten about the card that could be his ticket to the skies wedged securely in his watch pocket.

  He stood to find the gents’ toilet and kissed her cheek once again inhaling her beautiful scent. She was right; he was in awe of her. He had a sinking feeling there was something he couldn’t completely trust. But she was exciting, beautiful and connected. He was willing to shrug off any reservations.

  “Thank you; you will never know how grateful I am. If there is anything I can do to repay you…”

  “You know what to do. Join us at Lammas.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Present

  I awoke. It took me a moment to register where I was. My mind was lost in the dream world of Joe and Violet. The visions were becoming more and more intense, and now they were not waiting for my dreams. They were kidnapping my mind when I was awake then knocking me out and sending me back to the past.

  “What do you want, Violet? Why are you feeding me all these stories?” I begged the empty room for answers.

  I glanced at the seemingly innocent room towards the bookcase where I found the shabby old journal when I was first alone in the house. I remembered how it jumped from the shelf and how it fizzled with warmth. Was I meant to read the book? Was it Violet’s power that sent it flying out of its hiding place? I remembered Joab explaining that an object or picture cou
ld be enough to anchor a seer’s mind to travel to a particular place in time. I wondered if the old journal of Joe’s opened a door in my mind enabling me to go there in my dreams. That didn’t explain why I looked so much like Violet and why Joab resembled Joe.

  I pulled myself to a seated position on the huge leather sofa. I steadily rose to my feet and groped around for my necklace, which I left on the table. It wasn’t there. I searched the back of the sofa and the floor. I checked my pockets in my jeans. For how long was I unconscious?

  I could hear movement and voices in the kitchen. I panicked. Who were those people? How long had I blacked out for this time? I shouted to Joab. He appeared in the doorway holding a mug of tea. I looked at it suspiciously.

  “Hey, you are awake. I stayed with you. I tried to rouse you, but it is getting more difficult. At first, you were writhing and muttering; then you seemed to drift off to sleep. You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you, so I covered you with a blanket. You have been here all night.”

  “All night? I have to go. I meant it when I said I had enough. I need to find my necklace then pack up and go home.”

  “Why now? We are making so much progress.” Joab looked crestfallen.

  I wondered if Joab’s feelings for me were real. Maybe he was caught up in some warped magic spell too. I knew I couldn’t reveal my suspicions. I had to play along, find out why these people wanted me. I needed to speak to Tom then find a way to free Violet. To do all that, there was no choice but to stay.

  “I am sorry, Joab. Last night frightened me. I’m not sure if I can take much more. I have to go to college too. I have only been a few times since term started. They may kick me out.”

  “You are strong. You have your magic now. All you need to do is learn how to use it. And you have me. Hey, maybe in a couple of days I could take you to Dinah’s for a bit, then you and I could go away somewhere, just us together away from Hunter’s Moon.” Joab smiled hopefully. “Here…” Joab clasped her necklace around her neck. Instinctively, I touched it

  possessively.

  I looked anxiously towards the door. “Who are those people in the kitchen?”

  “Oh, yes. With everything that has happened, I forgot about the party. Do you remember learning about the Pagan calendar and the Sabbats? Well, today is Mabon, the Harvest Feast. There is a huge party at the barn tonight. The guys in the kitchen are here for the feast. They are friends from London and part of the coven. They are great. Come and meet them.”

  “Oh god no. I have just woken up, and I am not good with new people…”

  “Hi, you must be Cat. I am Juniper.” A girl with pillar-box red hair cut into a blunt bob appeared in the doorway to the library. “I have been dying to meet you. Joab has not stopped talking about you. Are you OK? Are you sick? I am sorry. I am intruding. Let me know if I can get you anything.” She disappeared into the hallway; I was half expecting there to be a puff of glitter in her wake.

  “Come and say hi. Put them out of their misery, and you can make a sharp exit for your bedroom…please.”

  I passed the doorway to the kitchen to get upstairs anyway, so there wasn’t any way I could escape. “Fine,” I said, smoothing my hair down and twisting it into a bun.

  I was shocked to discover seven or eight people sitting around the farmhouse table sipping cups of tea. Sheepishly I waved my hand in a stiff, awkward way. “Errr, hi,” I uttered.

  Joab’s smile widened with pride. “Guys, may I introduce, Cat, my gir…my friend…our cleaner and trainee witch.”

  I noticed he changed his description of me quickly after he saw my sharp look when it seemed he was going to refer to me as his girlfriend. I felt a hot flush climbing from my neck to my face; I was self-conscious and desperately shy. The moisture in my mouth evaporated when I looked around at the beautiful people staring at me curiously, some suspiciously.

  Juniper walked towards me with a warm and broad smile. “Hi, it is lovely to meet you. How are you feeling?” She kissed me on the cheek like we were old friends. “Let me get you a cup of tea, and you can join us and tell us what a bore Joab has been with all his rantings about life and politics.”

  I immediately liked her. She laughed openly and was joined by the others in agreement with her observation.

  Joab threw a tea towel at her. “Oi, I heard that Juniper.”

  Juniper quickly twisted the tea towel ready to thwack Joab, but he darted out of the way.

  A boy with long messy brown hair rose from his seat and strode towards me with his hand extended. “I am Nathaniel, Nate. Please have my seat.”

  I smiled. I was not used to such friendly people. I slid into the seat, aware of all the questioning eyes on me. Joab introduced the remaining faces, gesturing around the table and each person waved casually.

  “Violet, Rowan, Harriet, Ettie, Will and Seth. They will be a load more joining us later for the Mabon feast before we head to the barn for the festival.” Joab looked at me apologetically. Then he placed a steaming cup of tea in front of me and whispered, “I am so sorry this is sudden. I was going to mention the party, and then with your blackouts, I forgot they were coming today. It was just as much of a surprise to me, but they are great people, easygoing. You’ll love them. If you are not up to it, you don’t have to join in. Look, I will take them all down to the pub until you come round if you like, and you can join us later?”

  I looked at the group of faces and their glances between me and Joab, minds ticking as they drew their conclusions about our relationship. I assumed they thought Joab was way out of my league.

  “I am not feeling great. You guys have fun. I will hide upstairs. You won’t know I’m here. Besides I don’t have anything to wear for a party.” I finished my tea and rose awkwardly. My face bumped into an unexpected dry kiss on the cheek from Joab. A bizarre half giggle escaped from my mouth. “Nice to meet you all.” I groaned inwardly with embarrassment at my two-handed wooden wave and shuffled sideways to the door.

  I retreated upstairs, still feeling dizzy. I decided to lie down on the bed for a moment. On the white bedspread, there was a box with a small logo and a woman’s name printed in a clean, understated font on the matte black finish. I opened it curiously. There was a handwritten card with my name scrawled on it and a kiss. There was a layer of tissue paper sealed with a sticker, which I carefully undid to reveal a beautiful dress of deep purple silk.

  The waves of fabric rippled under my touch when I lifted it from the box and held it against my body. I moved towards the full-length mirror and was startled at a familiarity that drifted in my mind—the colour was the replica of the dress Violet wore in my dream. I glanced at the door to ensure I was alone and tore off my clothes. I threw them on the floor and stepped into the puddle of shining silk. It felt wonderful as the smooth fabric drifted over my skin. The dress hung from my thin frame, but the way it was cut and crafted created curves I didn’t have. I glanced at my discarded Converse and wondered what the hell I could wear on my feet with a dress as stunning as this.

  Then there was a soft knock on my door.

  “Wait, errrr, hang on. I’m not decent.” I panicked in case there was a mistake, and I had tried on someone’s dress they had brought for the party.

  “It’s me…Joab. I left a dress for you on the bed, in case you change your mind about the party. You’ll need these too. I’ll leave them outside your door.”

  I heard his footsteps disappear downstairs. I waited for a few moments and edged the door open enough for me to peer out without revealing my dress. There was a box; I swiped it into the room. It was a shoe box. I allowed my fingers to trace the embossed writing on the top: Jimmy Choo. I assumed the contents to be expensive. I eagerly pushed back the tissue paper to reveal a pair of elegant stiletto heeled shoes in a matching purple to the dress. There were scarily high.

  I slipped them on and wobbled to the mirror. The shoes forced me to stand upright and push my shoulders back, or I would fall off them and crumple to the
floor. The girl that stared back was a striking, vivacious woman; it was Violet. Not me. I gasped. Was it a coincidence Joab found a dress similar to Violet’s? How would he know what she wore? I suddenly felt uncomfortable in a dress meant for another girl and began to wriggle out of the straps.

  A ridiculous, inconceivable idea struck me. Joab was telling me the truth; he knew Violet. Was she the girl he loved? How could this be possible? She was alive over seventy years ago. I moved towards the journal’s hiding place to find the photograph. I stared at the ghosts in the picture. The boy in the suit looked so much like Joab. Then in shock, I remembered my dream about the dance. The photo was taken at the dance at the army base on the common. The young pilot was Thomas Mason, the statuesque woman in white was Anne, so that made the other girl in the photo Violet. If Violet was trapped within the walls of the house for seventy years, is it possible that Joe is Joab, stuck in time too, never ageing?

  I didn’t notice my bedroom door inch open, not until I saw Joab’s dazzled grin.

  “You look…I mean.” He licked his dry lips searching for an appropriate word. “Beautiful.”

  I allowed a smiled to spread across my face before I snapped back to reality. “Joab, thank you.” I hid the photo behind my back. “The dress and shoes are stunning, much too beautiful for me. You have gone to a lot of effort to get this for me, and I appreciate it, but it is not me. I am sorry, but I am too unwell. And what happens if I black out again? You better go. Have fun,” I said while kicking the shoes off my feet.

  “Hey, careful. Those are Jimmy Choo,” he said, gathering them back into the box. “You like the dress?” he asked eagerly.

  “Yes, of course, it’s stunning,” I said truthfully.

  “I got Juniper to help me find it; I wanted to get you something special, in case you decided to induct into the coven at the party today. It is vintage by a French designer called Mainbocher from 1940.”