‘I’m saying, my love, that she is playing you like a piano.’
‘That’s a bit harsh. I’m not that stupid.’
‘No, you’re not stupid. You’re inquisitive and you have this habit of wanting to see the best in people.’
He caressed the back of my hand with his thumb and brought my wrist to his lips. The hot flush of pleasure coursed through my body as he pressed his mouth to the pulse on the soft underside.
‘Let’s stay focused, please.’ I pulled my hand away as I remembered Zeke’s penchant for hasty departures. The burn of his lips throbbed on my skin, but I ignored it. ‘She was quite beautiful,’ I said as I slipped the photo of Minna, along with the magazine articles that Aunt Lillian had given me, out of the envelope. ‘Her wedding to Matthew’s brother was the society event of the season. She left poor Gregory standing there in front of all those people, until the realization … what’s wrong?’
‘Where did you get this?’ He held the article about Minna’s father in his hand. A small vein across his forehead started to pulse.
‘From Cynthia’s aunt. She used to write the society column for the newspaper. That’s Minna’s father. He’s a horrid man, according to Cynthia’s aunt.’
Zeke grabbed my wrist and held it tight. ‘What did you tell her?’
‘You’re hurting me.’ I wrenched my wrist away and rubbed it.
‘I’m sorry. What did you tell her?’
‘That I wanted to find out about Minna’s past, so I could try to help her.’
‘Promise me that you will drop this crusade of yours at once. I mean it, Sarah. Promise me. I’m not in a position to protect you, not with these injuries. I won’t have you hurt. Am I making myself clear? Promise me.’
‘Why?’
‘I can’t tell you why. I just need you to trust me and do as I ask without questioning me at every step. Promise me you’ll leave this one alone.’
‘I’ll do no such thing, not without an explanation. I don’t take orders from you, so unless you tell me why—’
‘What in the world is going on here?’ Bethany didn’t bother knocking when she barged into the room. ‘Come on, you two. Visiting hours were over long ago and we cannot be seen playing favourites.’ She eyed both of us as if we were two teenagers caught sneaking out of the house for a midnight tryst. ‘Stressful conversation doesn’t promote healing.’
‘I was just leaving. Good night, Bethany.’ I pushed past her.
‘Sarah, promise me,’ Zeke called out.
I ignored him.
* * *
The sky opened up while I slept, and I awoke to rain pounding against my window. The morphine had kept the weeping at bay, but the screams from the hospital wing had floated into my room during the night. I put my feet on the cold floor and padded into the bathroom, dreading what I would discover downstairs.
‘Still no Alice?’ I grabbed my apron and picked up the wire whisk, trying to stay out of Mrs McDougal’s way as she whirled around the kitchen. ‘Shall I scramble these for breakfast?’
‘Yes, please. And the biscuits in the oven will need to come out in five minutes.’ She pulled four trays out of the storage pantry and laid them side by side on the worktable. In a flash, she had placed a small white teapot, a cup and saucer, and a serving dish with applesauce that she had canned herself on each tray. The kettle for coffee boiled just as the timer dinged for the biscuits to come out of the oven.
‘I suppose you heard that poor man screaming,’ Mrs McDougal said. ‘It kept me awake. I swear, if this goes on, I will have to stop living in.’
‘Who is he?’
‘His father is an architect and an old friend of Dr Geisler’s. The poor boy came home not right in the mind. He looks fit as a fiddle, and he’s polite as can be, with his ‘Yes, ma’am’ and ‘No, ma’am.’ But he’s got demons, things that he saw overseas, the likes of which I don’t care to know. Dr Geisler says some people’s minds can’t cope with stress. Look at poor Mr Collins. He’s a dear soul, sweet as can be, but the poor man will never leave here.’
‘Good morning, ladies.’ Bethany breezed into the kitchen, dressed in a nurse’s uniform, the white apron starched to within an inch of its life. ‘We’re short-staffed, so I’ll be nursing today. Sarah, my husband has been up since five-thirty, writing away in our suite. I’m to tell you to carry on where you left off yesterday and that your work is first rate.’
‘Thanks.’ I finished whisking the eggs, added my secret ingredient to make them fluffy, and poured them into the cast-iron skillet, which had been warming on the stove.
‘Sarah, thank you for helping out in the kitchen. Matthew and I both appreciate it.’ Bethany poured herself a cup of coffee and drank it while I cooked the eggs. ‘Is there mail, Mrs McDougal?’ she asked as she ate.
‘Sorry, ma’am. I’ve already given it to the doctor.’
‘What? Why did you do that?’
‘He asked for it. Have I done something wrong?’
‘No. No, it’s all right.’ Bethany held the plates for me, as I spooned the eggs onto them. ‘Better give an extra spoonful to this one. It’s for Zeke. His appetite is coming back, and he could stand to put some meat on those bones.’
I did as she asked.
A fifth tray had been laid out. It had coffee and a biscuit but no eggs. ‘What about this one?’
‘Oh, that’s Minna’s. She doesn’t eat eggs,’ Bethany said.
‘I’ll take it up to her.’ I glanced at Mrs McDougal. ‘If that’s okay.’
‘Thank you,’ Mrs McDougal said.
The orderlies had arrived to fetch the trays for the patients and load them onto the dumbwaiter. I took Minna’s tray and carried it up the stairs.
* * *
Minna sat up in bed, a lacy bed jacket tossed over her shoulders.
‘Good morning.’ I set the tray on her dresser. ‘Do you mind if I turn on one of these lamps?’
‘Go ahead.’
The lamplight did little to flatter Minna. Lack of sleep or emotional exhaustion had left purple half-moons under her eyes. She had pulled her hair away from her face and tied it with a scarf. The style accentuated her jutting cheekbones. Her unbuttoned bed jacket revealed her bony chest.
‘Thank you.’ She blew on the coffee before she took a sip. ‘Are you a housekeeper now?’
‘Just helping out until Alice comes back. She’s got influenza and will be out for the rest of the week.’
‘You’re grateful to Matthew – Dr Geisler – aren’t you?’
‘He seems to appreciate my work. My previous employment ended in disaster, and I need to earn my living, so, yes, I would say I’m grateful.’
‘I wanted to be independent, but gave that up long ago. Do you know that a woman cannot even rent an apartment on her own? She needs her husband or father to sign for her.’
‘Times are changing. Women are involved in factories now, holding down jobs that men used to do.’
‘And when the war is over and the men come home, do you think the women will keep the jobs? I promise you they’ll be discarded like yesterday’s trash and will be back to teaching school and serving coffee at the diner, just like before.’ She gazed at me with those cold grey eyes. ‘What’s wrong, Sarah? Something’s different.’
I went to the basket of books and took out the magazines that were still at the bottom.
‘Is reading magazines a crime?’
I tossed the magazines on her bed. ‘Open one.’
She rifled through the magazine. When she saw the holes in the pages where the words had been cut out, she reached for another magazine from the pile I handed her, and another, and another, tossing each magazine aside as she ripped through them, as though an explanation for the cut-out words lay within the pages.
‘I won’t even ask how you came to discover these magazines. That’s not important. You know what this means, don’t you?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t,’ I said.
‘He’s been i
n my room.’ Her voice broke. ‘Gregory did this, Sarah. He’s setting me up. I know what you’re thinking, and I swear, as God is my witness, I did not send those dead flowers or that horrible message to myself.’
‘Should I get Dr Geisler?’
‘No.’ She clawed at her covers and scrambled to her feet. ‘I must leave here. Today. Now.’
‘Minna, let me go and get Dr Geisler. He will know what to do. If Gregory is here, he should be told. Don’t you agree?’
‘I cannot believe this is happening to me. I am being set up by someone who is incredibly adept.’
‘Minna, I want to help you.’
‘Help me? What can you do to help me? You’re a slip of a girl, with your own problems. How dare you butt into my business? But since you’ve already done so, ask yourself if I would leave evidence in my room. Mrs McDougal sends housekeeping staff up here all the time. Have you asked yourself why I would try to make it look like Gregory is alive? Surely you don’t think I’m that desperate for attention.’
‘We need to call the police. Maybe there are fingerprints on the magazines. There’s got to be a way we can find out who is doing this.’
‘No. No police. I’ll take these magazines to Matthew and explain that you discovered them while searching my room. Then I’m leaving this place. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Run along,’ she said, waving her hand in dismissal.
‘I wasn’t searching your room. Mrs McDougal asked me to wind the clocks. Your room’s a mess. I tripped over the junk on the floor. The basket tipped over and the magazines fell out of it. And don’t take that superior tone with me. I won’t be dismissed with the wave of a hand. I’m the only one here who actually believes you. And now you want to run away? Don’t you think this is the safest place for you? Don’t you think Dr Geisler can protect you?’
‘Stupid girl. Protect me? If Gregory is able to come into this house, Matthew is not safe. Gregory wants to possess me, but he wants to kill Matthew. You mark my words – something bad is in the wind. Something dangerous. Now get out and leave me alone.’
A tray with the dirty dishes from Minna’s last meal sat on a footstool near her vanity. Without a word, I picked it up and left, closing the door behind me with a resounding click.
The weeping filled the hallway. Alysse’s ghost waited for me there. She paced back and forth in the corridor. She fidgeted with her hands, the expression on her face one of worry and concern. No colours shimmered around her now, just a veil of sadness, desperate sorrow that broke my heart.
‘Can you hear me?’ Her disjointed words sounded as though she were speaking to me under water. She stopped crying and stared at me, as if noticing me for the first time.
I nodded.
‘Stop taking the drops. You can’t see when you take them. She is not what she seems. I need to tell you things, but I can’t come through the fog when you take the drops.’
‘I won’t take them tonight.’
‘You’re not doing things fast enough. You need to save my brother. Do you hear me? You must …’
Alysse’s image got weaker. She faded to a whisper, to an ephemeral outline in the morning light.
‘I need to know what you want me to do,’ I called out, my voice frantic.
She appeared again, clear and strong. Her mouth moved, but I couldn’t hear her words.
‘I can’t hear you.’
A deep chill surrounded me. I shivered as my frantic breathing created curlicue clouds in the space between us.
Alysse appeared to shout, but her words couldn’t penetrate the shimmery field of energy that separated us. She reached out to touch it. Upon contact, her hand glowed with the unmistakable red of anger.
An icy wave of energy crashed into me. My feet flew up into the air. I landed on my side with a thud.
The tray crashed to the floor, smashing the crockery into pieces.
Chapter Eight
Time stopped and I hovered, alone, in the gloaming between two worlds. I could have fallen asleep right there in the comforting shield of the mist. Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed a frantic person – dead or alive, I couldn’t tell – moving towards me. Mrs McDougal. I awoke in an instant. My eyes shot open and I sat up, unsure of my surroundings.
‘What’s happened? Are you all right?’ Mrs McDougal squatted next to me, and touched my forehead. ‘Can you stand up?’
She put a strong arm around my waist and helped me to my feet.
‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’ She called downstairs for someone to come and clean up the mess. ‘Do you want to go and lie down for a while?’
‘No.’ I forced a smile. ‘I’m okay. Sorry about the mess.’
‘Don’t worry. You’ve been working too hard. Dr Geisler wants you. Go to him. I’ll see to this.’
I hurried off to find Dr Geisler, leaving Mrs McDougal to deal with the mess I had made.
* * *
Dr Geisler sat at his desk, writing by the glow of the brass banker’s lamp. The pelting rain had diminished into a spring shower that would leave the city streets and sidewalks gleaming, if only for a few minutes.
‘Good morning,’ he said without looking up. ‘You look like you’re a million miles away. Is everything all right?’
‘Good morning. Mrs McDougal said you wanted to speak to me. I was about to head out to do the shopping. Do you want to talk now?’
‘Shopping?’ Dr Geisler set his pen down and looked up at me. ‘Surely there’s someone else who can do that?’
‘Alice has influenza,’ I said. ‘Mrs McDougal needs the help.’
‘Why don’t you go to Moretti’s and give your order. That way you can avoid the crowds at the Safeway, and you won’t have to carry everything back in the rain.’ He leaned forward, an eager expression on his face. ‘What’s happened?’
I hesitated before opening my mouth, knowing that once I uttered the words, I couldn’t take them back.
‘You’ve seen her, haven’t you?’
I nodded.
‘Did she communicate with you?’
I nodded again. ‘You were right. She wants me to help you.’
‘Are you saying she spoke to you?’
‘She said, “She’s not what she seems.” She told me to stop taking the drops. When I take them, she can’t communicate with me.’
He jumped from his chair and came around to sit next to me, much like he had done with the hysterical Minna. ‘This is remarkable. Congratulations.’
I didn’t quite share Dr Geisler’s joy. ‘I’m ready for you to help me.’
‘Now?’
‘Now. Please.’
‘The most important thing is to learn to trust your intuition. I know several techniques to help you ground your energy. We can use hypnosis to teach you to shut your gift down. You need to control when you see the ghosts, or they will come to you unbidden and drive you mad. There’s much for you to learn, but you must be patient. You must be strong.’
‘I want to learn. If this is who I am, I want to know about it.’
‘Very good.’ Dr Geisler rubbed his hands together, anticipation written all over his face. ‘Let’s get started. Note the time on my desktop clock, please.’
‘Okay. It’s nine-thirty,’ I said.
Dr Geisler locked his office door and drew the curtains. He sat down in the chair next to mine. ‘Try to relax. Sit back in the chair and get comfortable.’
I did as he instructed.
He spoke in a syrupy voice that reminded me of honey dripping from the comb.
‘Close your eyes, Sarah. I’m going to guide you through a meditation to take you deep into your subconscious mind. Imagine you are standing before a staircase, which leads deep into your mind. Each time I say the word relax, you take a step on that staircase and go deeper into your own psyche. This journey will take you to a place that is safe. So relax.’
My eyelids grew heavy. I closed them and focused on my breath. I became aware of my lungs contracting and releasing. I fl
oated, ebbing and flowing with the currents of my mind.
His soothing voice took me deep into my subconscious. I never drifted away, never went into a trance.
‘Your safe place is yours alone, Sarah. You know that if anyone or any entity invades your thoughts, you can retreat here just by telling yourself to relax. You will be safe here. Spend time in this moment. You will remember this place, your spiritual centre, your home, and you will be able to return here just by reminding yourself to relax.’
I imagined myself curled up on a comfortable couch, away from the pain and negativity that had surrounded me since I left the asylum last October.
‘Now I am going to bring you back. When you return from this journey, you will remember everything that I’ve told you, and you will feel refreshed and rejuvenated. You’ll know the way to your safe place and will take comfort in knowing it is there for you, only you, at any time. I am going to count to ten. And then you will awaken, refreshed and at peace.’
I woke up to find Dr Geisler smiling at me. He opened the curtains, allowing the morning light into the room.
‘How do you feel?’ He sat back down at his desk.
‘I remember everything,’ I said. ‘I guess I wasn’t a very good subject, or I would have gone into more of a trance.’
‘You did very well, Sarah.’ He nodded at the clock. ‘Look at the time.’
‘Ten-thirty? You mean that was an hour?’
‘The subconscious mind doesn’t process time like the logical part of our brain does. I suggested that you retreat to this safe place in your mind when the spirits show up unbidden. You have an amazing gift. I hope that you can practise this relaxation technique, develop it, if you will. I hope that if you do see Alysse, you won’t be frightened. There’s something she wants me to know. I admit, I am a little desperate to know what that is.’ He gave me a sheepish smile. ‘Things are going to be all right, Sarah. You’ll see.’
I wanted to believe him.
* * *
The rain stopped before I set out for Moretti’s. A blustery wind had swept the clouds away and now attempted to take my hat as well. I stayed on Jackson and walked down the hill towards Van Ness, crossing Octavia, Gough, and Franklin until I arrived at the family-owned grocery on the corner of Jackson and Van Ness. Unlike the Safeway market, which accepted cash, didn’t deliver, and would be full of other shoppers scrabbling for the best vegetables, Moretti’s still had the family feel of the corner grocer.
The House of Secrets Page 10
