“That might be by-the-by but my feelings remain the same and I still want to call you Mummy. There’s no reason why I can’t, you are my mother in name and everyone knows who you are so why not? From now on I’m going to call you Mummy, is that alright, would you mind?”
Georgie’s eyes snapped open and looked into those of the demon. “Of course not, darling, why would I? You are my devoted daughter to whom I owe so much. It will be an honour. Now please, Vanessa, I need to sleep, remember what the doctor ordered. Tomorrow is going to be a trying day and we both should rest. Now I beg you, be quiet.” Closing her eyes, Georgie tried hard not to scream.
Instead she focused her mind that was awash with memories of Christmas and Kenneth in his dinner jacket, and dear Dolly bringing her jellied eels that she couldn’t do without, and Sandy attending her first Tenley bash. And then she remembered. She remembered it all so clearly. While her heart pounded in her chest and her head screamed the truth, one she was fighting hard not to hear or accept, Georgie travelled back to that evening, to her dressing room.
Sandy had knocked on the door and brought in Kenneth’s shoes. He’d left them in the kitchen after giving them a quick polish and as Georgie turned, she surveyed their housekeeper and was dismayed by her appearance. Sandy was wearing a dowdy green dress and a gold cross and chain, her plain stockings and black shoes did nothing for her whatsoever and in that instant, Georgie flew into action, insisting she borrowed one of her dresses. The pink silk with overlaid organza and pearls had been hanging on the wardrobe door and admired earlier by Vanessa. Georgie had opted for the yellow full-length dress, it was sure to make a splash at the village hall. By the time she’d finished poo-poohing Sandy’s protestations, Georgie was immensely pleased with the transformation and with a final flourish, sprayed a very liberal blast of Chanel all over the flustered housekeeper. Afterwards they all set off in a taxi but halfway through the night Sandy sloped off, she came home, probably to check on Vanessa.
Georgie lay motionless in her bed, regulating her breathing so that Vanessa would think she was sleeping and not be alerted to her distress. Inside, Georgie’s body flowed with a noxious mixture of nausea and molten lava, fear hovering on the surface like a mist, her body going from hot to cold, panic to numbness. Dear God it was all so obvious, so hideously painfully clear.
From a distant buried memory had come clarity and truth. Sandy, poor, poor, Sandy, who lay floating in the pool downstairs, was Vanessa’s mother. Somehow she had found her child and lived side by side, watching over her, keeping her safe, yet always on the outside. A sob hurtled up from Georgie’s throat and almost escaped her mouth which she masked with a cough, then gathered herself and forced the next one down.
Peeping through tired, burning eyes, Georgie saw that Vanessa had finally gone to sleep in the chair, and it crossed Georgie’s mind that had she the energy and the guts she would have taken a pillow and given the demon a taste of its own medicine. But there had been enough death under this roof and she might be many things, but Georgie wasn’t a murderer… not in the biblical sense. Instead, using her wiles and whatever gumption remained, she would have to think of another way to punish Vanessa, fight fire with fire, just as something that crawled up from hell might expect.
Georgie needed to think and as the clock ticked and the demon snored she spent the rest of the night deep in thought.
By the time the clock struck seven and a shaft of light could be seen through the crack in the curtains, Georgie had her answer and knew exactly what she must do.
Georgie
Once Georgie worked it out, or more to the point how to punish Vanessa, the rest was easy. It had been a living purgatory but she endured. The end game was her only goal in which she was determined to be the victor. All it took was a little planning and fortitude along with latent acting skills, but she was able to pull the wool over Vanessa’s eyes and hide her true intentions in plain sight. Vanessa may have been a willing and devoted student who thought she had graduated from the school of deception with honour but Georgie was the master, and had a final lesson to teach. She began the very next morning.
Leaving Georgie with firm instructions to remain upstairs and feign illness, Vanessa had gone downstairs to prepare for her charades. She had waited until Mrs Coombs arrived and the plan was simple – they would fall upon the debris in the kitchen and then the body, together. It was such a blessed relief to be left alone for the first time in hours, but Georgie had no time to languish so dragged herself from her sick bed and hurried to Sandy’s bedroom. Apart from the opulent furnishings there wasn’t much to see, or search through, because Sandy’s belongings, whilst orderly, were meagre and uncovered nothing of use. This led Georgie upstairs, an arduous task thanks to her drug-soaked body held up by weak legs, all the time listening out for footsteps, confident that Vanessa would be occupied elsewhere.
It didn’t take long for Georgie to find what she was looking for. It was hidden at the bottom of Sandy’s old wardrobe under a pile of neatly folded blankets but Georgie knew it would be there somewhere. Instinct told her that if Sandy had prevailed for so many years there would be some clue, even a tiny shred of proof to confirm Georgie’s suspicions. After removing the small rather tatty suitcase, Georgie opened it briefly and after casting her eyes over the contents and sure there were no other hiding places secreting treasure, she descended as quickly as possible. With a pounding heart, she paused at the top of the stairs, catching her breath before scurrying back to her room, desperate to investigate the contents of the case but wary of being discovered.
Instead, Georgie waited for the wail of sirens and the inevitable commotion downstairs, to be questioned by the police who were told a story identical to the one concocted and repeated verbatim by Vanessa. They searched Sandy’s bedroom along the corridor for a suicide note and also her old room on the top floor but found nothing of interest. Poor Mrs Coombs was distraught and after speaking to the police handed in her notice on the spot. It had all been too much, decades of death at Tenley, so she picked up her handbag and marched off down the drive, never to return.
The Coroner’s report recorded death by misadventure. Poor Sandy was labelled as a troubled drunk which was inevitable after Vanessa’s tearful but damning evidence. Once the delivery boy and the village policeman’s wife spread their own version of events, the rumour mill consigned the whole affair to the Tenley Curse. And just as Georgie suspected, everyone felt so sorry for poor Vanessa who was left all alone in the big house with her sickly stepmother to care for, and with such selfless dedication. It made Georgie so angry, to think of Vanessa being painted as a sad but saintly figure. Nevertheless, once the dust died down and the floating housekeeper was chip paper, Georgie got on with the task of living life, honouring the memory of her dear darling Kenneth and punishing a wicked demon.
Her health never really recovered and a more fragile person would have been devoured by their nerves and conscience but not Georgie. Instead she rose to the challenge and whilst her body didn’t always play ball, her mind was more than ready for a game of mental cricket and her favourite opponent was an unsuspecting Vanessa.
To begin with they struck a bargain. They would never ever talk again of the secret, it was too risky and one slip could have landed them both in jail. In reality, Georgie could not bear to hear of it or listen to the demon as she gloated. Yet despite her solid conviction that she’d got away with it, Vanessa feared arrest and imprisonment most of all. Perhaps it was a result of Georgie’s inference that she would starve to death on prison food and that some of the inmates would have her for dinner, in more ways than one. This acerbic notion was then sweetened by Georgie’s tearful lapses where she would speak of her terror at the idea of Vanessa’s incarceration or being left alone in the world, unable to countenance an existence without Vanessa by her side. In truth, what Georgie actually feared was the notion of being in an adjoining cell or worse, sharing one with a demon. Nevertheless, each ghastly scenario ensure
d Vanessa’s silence and compliance.
Georgie knew that Vanessa was quite mad and had she been so inclined would have sought information to confirm her status as a psychopath. Preferring to sleep at night, she chose to spare herself the details but bearing the possibility in mind, Georgie handled Vanessa carefully. It wasn’t difficult and meant nothing more than treating her as she did during childhood, indulging, cosseting and making her the focus of attention but this time, to the exclusion of all others.
It was easy to convince Vanessa that apart from new staff to maintain the house, they were a team, just the two of them, and she loved it. Soon Vanessa sought no other counsel than Georgie’s and slowly abandoned her hanger-on friends. And while Georgie thought she’d sometimes go silently mad, she endured. It was easy to lose oneself in a book, film or play, become immersed in music and memories while marking time, waiting to be reunited with loved ones.
During her period of living with a lunatic, it was also important to maintain the upper hand which Georgie did by reinforcing her position as mother. Vanessa absolutely loved this, along with calling her Mummy. To begin with Georgie’s heart lurched each time she uttered the word but after time got used to it. It was just a six-letter title that meant nothing at all, not to her. Georgie took the lead in everything, subtly, by means of a hint or suggestion, hence Vanessa believed she was pleasing her beloved mother. On other occasions, she was downright demanding, playing the drama queen, the crazy pragmatic Georgie of old that Vanessa remembered from her rose-tinted childhood. Apart from holding the reins, it was imperative to not anger the demon – thus being murdered in her bed.
At the beginning, Georgie didn’t have a firm plan, it built slowly. The only thing she did know for sure was that she had to find out as much as she could about Sandy. Georgie had felt such despair when she opened Sandy’s suitcase. The contents broke her heart. After waiting until she knew Vanessa was gone for the day, on an errand into town that Georgie was too weak to run herself, she took the case from the wardrobe and placed it on her bed. Her hands shook terribly as she unzipped the lid and removed the photo album from the top. The moment she turned the first page, Georgie knew she was vindicated in her intrusion because there it was, a faded black and white photograph of Vanessa and her very young mother, Sandy. The snaps that followed, of Vanessa’s first few years had obviously been taken from the Tenley album but later, after the arrival of Sandy, Georgie realised she had lovingly collated her own history, taking photos of her child and here and there were some of them together.
At the back of the album, she found a number of items placed under the plastic protector. Bus and rail tickets from a town in Yorkshire, destination Bournemouth, and postcards showing a large cliff top hotel. Georgie suspected these were part of a trail, the provenance of Sandy’s life and her journey to Tenley. There was also a large brown envelope and inside a birth certificate belonging to an Ivy Emsworth and a change of name deed. From these Georgie gleaned that not only had Sandy created a new identity, she must have been around eighteen when she had Vanessa. Next, Georgie found the jewel in the crown, the clue that led Sandy to her child, an article torn from a magazine showing Daphne and Kenneth with their adopted baby girl.
Without haste and with utmost secrecy, Georgie enlisted the services of a private detective who earned his fee well. It didn’t take him too long to retrace Sandy’s steps to her hometown where he managed to unearth the saddest story, the reason why she left everything behind. There were plenty of old souls who were around at the time of a great scandal and eager to relate the tale which he noted and reported back to Georgie.
Sent first to a mother and baby home, Sandy returned briefly and once she had punished those responsible, ran away and never went back. News got out of the headmaster’s dismissal after the Board of Governors and the Parish Council received a handwritten letter, exposing how he raped his stepdaughter and impregnated her with a child she was forced to give up. His wife went into rapid decline after reading her own truth and reeling under their public shame and vilification, all of which ended in divorce. He was never prosecuted since Ivy had disappeared, leaving both mother and stepfather to see their days out in council care homes. Georgie was horrified by Sandy’s story which made her even more determined to ensure Vanessa suffered a similar or worse fate to her wicked grandparents.
In the meantime, Georgie suffered Vanessa’s lapses when the she-devil could not be subdued. It was as though a switch flicked inside her brain whenever she felt denied or obstructed, threatened or patronised. There had been some terrible moments in restaurants and stores when her rage at being served the wrong change, or a dish that was too cold, too spicy or too paltry had erupted into a tsunami. Such shameful behaviour always reminded Georgie to beware because inside Vanessa lurked something manifestly evil. Georgie had no desire to die at the hands of the demon which was why, for as long as it was feasible, she slept with the light on and her door locked.
Life wasn’t without its trials and rather frightening moments when the floorboards creaked outside her bedroom door and keeping such a tight grip on Vanessa was trying, as was living such a lie, but it was worth it. While their peers still walked the earth, Georgie vowed to protect Kenneth’s name and good character, just as he had done hers. It was to remain her secret, that the marriage she held so dear was a sham and nor would anyone look down their noses, or with pity. Not in her lifetime. However, once she was gone Georgie would care not of gossip and pride and this notion spurred her on.
Georgie made it her mission to live the life that Kenneth promised, either with or without him. She would not be ejected from her home, die in poverty or shame. She was Lady Georgina Tenley and would be so until the day she died. To this end and another, Georgie set about spending as much of Vanessa’s fortune as she could. Whether it was living a wonderfully luxurious life to encouraging one of philanthropy, becoming the patron of local charities and donating to whatever disaster fund they advertised on television, Georgie led the way.
There was always some function or other the merry widow and her spinster daughter could attend and there Georgie danced and laughed, smoked and drank to excess. But when she fell into bed, alone, her tears would be for Kenneth. There had been admirers along the way but none of them tempted Georgie, nobody could, not while she still held a torch for a ghost and there was something else, a portent of doom that held her back. Even if after all that time she did meet a suitable chap, Georgie was loathe to place him in danger, in the glare of a jealous demon.
Still, her perseverance began to pay off and it was shocking how much money one could get through if you set your mind to it. In recent years and months, dear Mr Harcourt had been a frequent visitor, becoming more agitated and exasperated at each appointment. Vanessa’s accountant had done his best to reign in her spending but to no avail and as much as Georgie suggested she took heed, it seemed her high-rolling ways had rubbed off on her daughter. Vanessa’s desire to emulate and please Georgie knew no bounds. Land had to be sold off and owing to the state of the economy, her stocks and shares soon dwindled, as did the size of her bank balance. Without the means or staff at their disposal, Tenley fell into a state of disrepair, as did Georgie.
The Harley Street quack did a sterling job of not saying ‘I told you so’ but inevitably fifty cigarettes a day and living life to the full soon took their toll. Once the cancer in her chest took hold, it rampaged through Georgie’s body and soon she was firmly within its grasp. Vanessa refused to believe the prognosis and as a consequence, they spent almost four years visiting American and Swiss clinics being sold futile alternative cures. While the patient allowed the infusions of vitamin C and spent hours in oxygen tanks, and as Vanessa wrote another fat cheque, Georgie smiled and looked forward to the end game.
While she would have preferred never to return to Tenley again and take her last breath in some private hospice, Georgie had to be close to her hidden treasure. It was blatantly obvious to everyone except Vanessa that eve
n a trip to Lourdes wasn’t going to do the trick so after pleading to be allowed to die in her own home, they headed back, medical entourage in tow.
The time had almost come for Georgie to depart the world, she knew that, but before slipping into a semi-conscious state controlled by diamorphine and due to incapacity, the whims and delusional mind of Vanessa, Georgie had put her affairs in order. With the help of her solicitor, Georgie was ready to serve her revenge, stone bloody cold.
If by virtue of her own testimony, Vanessa managed to stay out of jail, an outcome that would depend entirely on lack of evidence and her ability to appear sane, Georgie had a final hand to play. Imagining Vanessa under intense interrogation and suspicion, drinking water from a plastic cup as she lied her way out of trouble, gave Georgie a small amount of pleasure. The secondary outcome, of her living in a ruin of a house, penniless and alone with only ghosts and her conscience for company, was eclipsed by one single notion. If all else failed, the truth about Sandy was to be Vanessa’s final punishment. More than anything, Georgie hoped and wished that murdering her very own mother and being betrayed by her beloved stepmother would send the demon of Tenley completely and utterly mad.
Tenley House
Present Day
It is time. I cannot wait any longer and the nurse has given me what I know will be my last infusion of the elixir of death, or freedom, whichever way you wish to look at it. The doctor has placed his stethoscope on my chest and listened to the death knell of my slowing heart, and I don’t need to hear the words. I can see the truth in his manner, that shake of the head as he gives the nurse one of those looks. They forget, don’t they, that I am an actress and can read them like a script.
The Secrets of Tenley House Page 28
