“Ah” smiled the man, “I use a pen name. Find it much more useful.”
“Well I will not press you on it.” Laughed Victoria.
“Excellent.” He said, “The reason I am here is a few months ago something rather odd occurred in our village. Or more accurately in the woods around it. There is a small lake in a clearing above the village and it was there that on a sunny Saturday afternoon two young girls from the village found themselves confronted by something quite extraordinary.”
“How young?” Smiled Victoria, finding herself wishing that she could ask Fanelda to bring some tea in. In fact, she thought that the author may possibly consider it as rude for her not to do so. It was all after a quandary, she found.
“Seven and eight. Local girls. Sisters, in fact. Elizabeth and Margaret Wellands. A good family. Not prone to either exaggeration or over excitement. No flights of fancy and all that stuff.”
“What did they confront?” She asked. Hawthorne suddenly looked very awkward - embarrassed, in fact. He shuffled in his seat as if trying to make himself comfortable.
“Well?” Smiled Victoria and the author leaned forward almost conspiratorially.
“Fairies.” He said suddenly and Victoria could not help but cut short a small laugh.
“I am sorry?” She said and Hawthorne blushed furiously.
“I know, I know.” He said hurriedly, “It sounds ridiculous. Yet it was fairies. They ran home and said that as they approached the lake they had seen several small almost insect like creatures fluttering about the lake surface. As they approached they saw there were in fact many of the small insects, and that as they drew closer they flew towards them as if in greeting. It was then that they discovered that the creatures were humanoid with long transparent wings. They called to them in their high pitched voices, singing and welcoming them. They were to all intents and purposes fairies.”
“Fairies.” Repeated Victoria.
“Yes.”
“I see.” Victoria looked about the room. She would kill for a cup of tea she decided. She was somewhat surprised therefore when there was a sudden small knock on the drawing room door. “Come in.” she said tentatively and in strode a young man carrying a tea tray which he sat down upon the table. The cups were china and the tea service silver. That they were her cups, her saucers and her teapot was without doubt. The man however she had only ever seen once before.
“Is that you Romney?” She said in her mind and she heard the demon chuckle.
“Yes boss.” He said as the young man went about serving the tea. Victoria watched him closely. The other time she had seen him was when Victoria had been drawn to the third circle to be rescued by Romney.
“I didn’t know you could do that.” She said in her head and the demon chuckled again.
“I don’t tend to make a habit of it.” He said finally, “But it’s just one of a few things I can do since our little journey through the upper echelons of hell.” He paused slightly as if thinking. “Or should that be lower?” He said speculatively.
The young man poured the tea and left the room.
“So Mister Hawthorne.” Said Victoria, picking up her tea cup and taking a sip of the tea. It was divine. “What is your interest in this matter? More importantly what do you want of me?”
“A second opinion.” He said earnestly, “I am no expert but I do believe these girls are telling the truth. I wish you to interview them, perhaps even visit the lake and review your findings with myself.”
“What is your interest?” She asked and he smiled broadly.
“Well I am not just an author of popular fiction. My other interests are in journalism and also in the areas of the occult. Since the licensing of seances the whole area of otherworldly studies has been stifled. I understand this of course, but I would not care to set back the spirit world researchers a decade by not investigating all possibilities. If there are demons, and there most certainly are Miss Neaves, why can there not be fairies also?”
“You are scared to declare the experiences that these two young girls have had in fear that they may be lying and that you have been taken in I suspect.” She noticed Hawthorne frown.
“Yes. I am not an expert when dealing with children. I have never married you see, so my experience with non-adults is at best rudimentary. They could be deceiving me quite blatantly and I would not be aware of the fact.”
“Non-adults.” Smiled Victoria. She paused slightly as if considering her options before continuing. “Well I am hardly an expert with children. I cannot have any of my own you see.”
“Oh I see.” Said the author, “How terrible. I - “Victoria held up a hand to stop him.
“It is of no great concern.” She said, “I am not married.” She paused for a second, making a list in her head. “There are however a few things with regards to the case that I need to know.”
“Such as?”
“Well first of all has anyone else seen these creatures? Has the area around this lake been searched?”
“The parents of the children went to investigate but found nothing. Likewise, with the local police. It is quite a small lake. In fact, more of a pond than anything. People rarely go there. As I say the village is a quiet place. “
“Neither the girl's parents or the police found anything I take it?” She said.
“Nothing.” Sighed Hawthorne sadly, “Nothing at all.”
“I see. The girls then. Are they of good and even disposition? Any word of behaviour unbecoming a young lady?”
“None.” said Hawthorne, “The parents of the girls inform me they are generally very level headed and not mischievous in any way.”
“Yet we have no proof of anything untoward other than the two girl’s stories?”
“Not quite.” Said the author. “The parents are ardent brown platers and loaned them a camera for their next visit.”
“Brown-platers?” Asked Romney in her mind.
“Photographers.” She replied.
“Ah.”
“If I may show you these.” Said the author, once again reaching inside his jacket only this time pulling out several small sheets of rolled up paper. He placed them on the table in front of her and unrolled the top one.
The first picture showed the head and shoulders of a smiling girl. Around her, dancing and looking at her with apparent delight were a dozen or so what could only be described as fairies. Victoria looked at the second picture and it was similar, only a different younger girl this time, once again surrounded by lots of flying fairies.
“Scan them.” She said in her head.
“I already have boss.” Said the demon.
“And?”
“They are genuine. What you see in those pictures is what was actually there at the time. No tinkering with the image at all, either at point of composition or later. No traces of any manipulation by any demonic energy either.”
“I see.” Said Victoria out loud by accident. She smiled at Hawthorne to appease him. “My fees are five pounds per day plus expenses.” She said.
“Wonderful.” Said Hawthorne, “You shall take the case then?”
“I shall.” She smiled, shaking hands with the author, “Who can resist a fairy?”
“So what next?” He said, obviously pleased and excited that she had decided to assist.
“I would like to interview the two girls.” She said. “Could you get the parents to take them to neutral ground say tomorrow?”
“I will invite them to my residence.” He said. “Twelve noon. My address is on my card. I will call you on the telephonic if there are any complications. Otherwise assume that everything is going ahead as planned.”
“Excellent.” She said as the author rose, collecting his cane and putting his hat back on. “I shall see you tomorrow.”
“Good day.” She said, and then realised that she had left him to let himself out. She heard the door close and from the window saw him walk down the garden path, finally disappearing beyond the privet
hedge.
“I really must see to hiring a butler.” She sighed to herself and returned to the table and poured herself a second cup of tea. “You do make a nice cup of tea Romney.” She laughed.
“Of course.” Said the demon, “Only don’t get used to it. Buggers me up for the rest of the day being corporeal. Gives me a right old sore back it does.”
She smiled and returned to looking out of the window. The sun was bright on the flower beds but she did not notice that as her mind was fully set on the strange case of the Denwick Beauchamp fairies.
***
No messages arrived later that day or the next morning and so at eleven thirty Victoria fired up the steam wagon and drove herself down to the village. From there she followed the signpost north then north west that pointed towards Denwick Beauchamp. She drove for several miles along tree lined country roads, the sun trying in vain to break through the thinning canopy of leaves overhead until eventually she drove into the small village and then had to stop and ask at the village hall for direction to Hawthorne's house. She had his address from the card, but she did not know in which part of the village he resided.
Upon receiving directions and finding the house she was pleased to see that it was a small but comfortable building set back from the small road with its own drive. It was a simple abode; quaint in an old fashioned way. She was ten minutes early but loathe to sit around waiting she parked the steam wagon in the drive and made her way up the flower bordered path and rang the front door bell. There was a slight pause and a tall man dressed impeccably opened the door.
“Victoria Neaves for Mister Hawthorne.” She announced, “I am expected.”
“Very well ma’am.” Said the butler, “I was told to expect you. Please come through to the drawing room.” Smiling Victoria followed the man into the house, looking at the various press awards and what looked like book reviews framed upon the walls as she walked to the drawing room. Upon arriving there Hawthorne shot to his feet as she entered, and Victoria saw also seated there a young woman with two young girls dressed impeccably obviously waiting for her. Introductions were made and Victoria sat herself down facing the girls, Hawthorne on her left.
“Thank you for coming.” Smiled Victoria, “I will not keep you long. I just have a few questions of my own with regards what happened at the lake in the woods.”
“Well we are not allowed up there anymore.” Said the younger girl, who Victoria now knew was Margaret,
“No.” said Elizabeth, the eldest by a year, being eight, “Papa said that they don’t know if the fairies are good or bad really.”
“Though they are good.” Said Margaret. “They have never asked us to do anything bad anyway.”
“Do they speak to you?” Asked Victoria and both of the girls nodded, almost in unison. “What do they say?”
“They sing really.” Said Margaret, obviously the more talkative of the two girls, “Just like humming. Not any words. Just a tune.”
“So not really words when they talk?”
‘No.” said Elizabeth, “More like singing that goes up then down.”
“Like someone singing a scale in a music lesson?” Asked Victoria. Margaret frowned but Elizabeth nodded.
‘Yes. Like that.” She said.
Victoria smiled at them both. “Have you ever seen them before the time you saw them last month?” Both girls shook their heads. “Yet you go there a lot?”
“Mostly in the summer really.” Said Elizabeth.
“I see. Well I think that about covers the things I needed to ask.” she said. “Thank you for bringing the girls.” She said to the mother who nodded politely. No doubt weary of all the questions that no doubt Hawthorne, her husband and probably the police had already asked them many times already.
“Just one last thing.” Said Victoria as the two girls and their mother rose.
“What did they want?”
“Want?” Said Margaret.
“Yes. The fairies. What did they want?”
The two girls paused considering their answer.
“Nothing much really.” Said Elizabeth. They never really spoke in words.”
“Yes but you had a feeling that they wanted something I think.” Said Victoria.
The two girls paused and Victoria saw them give a quick look at each other as if confirming that they wanted to tell her the truth.
“They wanted us to go into the lake.” Said Margaret.
“Into the water?” Asked Victoria and the two girls nodded. ‘Did they say why?”
“They wanted us to go and live with them forever.” Said Elizabeth and Victoria heard their mother gasp and Hawthorne shuffle awkwardly by her side.
“Thank you.” Said Victoria, “That will be all.”
Victoria sat while the children and their mother were shown out by the writer who returned several minutes later and sat back down.
“They have never said anything before about wanting to go into the lake.” He said, a look of concern crossing his face. “That is new.”
“Sometimes children respond better to a female than to a man or indeed even a parent I find.” She said. “Still. It is quite interesting.”
“Very.” he said, “Quite sinister in fact. So what shall we do next?”
“Well whilst I am here we may as well go and have a look at the lake.” She said. “I have specific footwear for the walk and my coat is in the steam wagon. Give me a minute to fetch it and you can show me this place where they saw the fairies.”
“Good idea.” Said Hawthorne, “Come. Let’s be under way. We can have some lunch upon our return. The lake is but ten minute’s walk away.”
Victoria made her way back to the steam wagon and retrieved her coat and a minute later the writer joined her and they strode out of his drive and across the road. A hundred yards along the road a small footpath opened onto a stile on the road and he helped her over it and they made their way into the woods.
“Public land this really.” He said, “Doesn’t belong to anyone as such.”
“It is quite densely forested.” She said, peering through the trees, a well-worn footpath leading off up a hill and further into the woods.
“Yes. very pretty most of the year round.” They continued up the hill and down the other side, the forest floor thick with roots and leaves falling from the trees. Victoria was glad of her coat, for despite the leaves falling it was still sufficiently dark here to be much cooler than in the open air.
They rounded a bend and the footpath wound down before them sloping to a small pond which was bordered on three sides by thick trees, making the bank of the water inaccessible. The water looked deep and the whole glen had an almost greenish tint to the light. Even the water looked green, the blue sky above obscured by the trees overhead.
“It is quite small to be described as a lake.” Laughed Victoria and Hawthorne's snorted a laugh beside her.
“Yes. Still. It is pretty enough.” They walked a little further, the green light seeming to if anything grow even stronger, filling the pond and its surrounds with a dull green glow.
“There.” Said Victoria as a small shape flew across the lake heading towards them.
“Where?” Asked Hawthorne and Victoria pointed, seeing now several other small insect like shapes flying from the direction of the lake and heading towards them. They did not seem to fly into view but just appeared and then headed towards them.
The first shape was close now and Victoria gasped as it flew and hovered before her. It was female, long wings fluttering so quickly it was almost a blur. The creature was naked and was obviously female. As she watched another fairy, male this time, flew near to the other.
“Oh my.” Said Victoria, “What do you think Hawthorne?”
“Of what?” Asked the author in consternation, “I cannot see anything.”
“Here!” Shouted Victoria almost angrily, and as she held her hand out the male fairy flew forward and perched on the end of her finger. Victoria gasped, a wide
smile crossing her face.
“Where?” Asked Hawthorne and Victoria swung her hand around towards him slowly, the fairy sitting on the end of her outraised finger as she did so, smiling at her broadly.
“On my hand.” She said and Hawthorne shook his head.
“Nothing there.” He said, peering all around him, “I see nothing at all.”
“Scan them Romney.” She said in her mind but the demon did not reply straight away.
“Romney?” She said.
“Yes Boss?”
“Scan the fairy on my hand?” Again Romney seemed to pause.
“Victoria.” Said the demon almost formally, “There’s nothing on your hand. I can’t see anything at all.”
“It is floating on my finger.” She laughed, “Is there something wrong with you?”
“Nothing wrong with me.” Grumbled Romney. I will run a complete spectrum scan.”
“You do that.” She giggled as even more fairies flew across the lake towards her. Now the air was filled with dancing shapes fluttering all around them, and she slowly became aware of a buzzing, humming sound swelling in the air. It sounded as if it was a song, the words of which she could not quite hear and so she stepped forward towards the lake, straining her ears to try and make out the words.
“My dear you are very near the water.” Said Hawthorne dryly. “Please Take care.”
“Come and see.” said a voice now from the water and Victoria smiled, the fairies fluttering around her.
“Nothing boss.” Said Romney. “And your feet are getting wet. Get back up the bank.”
“Come closer and closer and closer…” sang the voices and she stepped further forward. Dimly she was aware that her ankles seemed to be getting wet but it was only a passing thought. She was far too intent on hearing the song and getting closer to it.
“Victoria!” Shouted Hawthorne, grabbing her by the hand. “You are ankle deep in water. Come. I will help you back to the bank.” He pulled at her arm but she did not move an inch. Her body’s skeletal frame was reinforced by alloys the likes of which were new to science, her strength artificially raised to an unusual degree. She did not move and Hawthorne found it impossible to move her.
The Complete Adventures of Victoria Neaves & Romney Page 10
