I tapped the side of my nose. “None of your business.” And with that, I turned smartly and walked away from what I had called, for many years, “The House of Hell.”
FIFTEEN
Three weeks had flown by since my return from Heatherbridge, and I never did get to talk properly with Mr. Shepherd, just “See you later” a couple of times. Uncle Albert had left me an old biscuit tin, its Christmassy design still surprisingly fresh, containing his most precious possessions. The sliver of wedding cake (Albert’s and Ivy’s?), so delicately boxed, I left in the tin. His extravagantly decorated pipe with the stained meerschaum bowl now graced my kitchen dresser. I had had a stand made especially for it, in keeping with the pipe which had been handed down from Albert’s father, and had fascinated me as a child. Ivy’s faded pink silk wedding corsage took pride of place on my dressing table and the photos, curled at the edges and much handled, had all been framed; long-ago morsels of happiness now adding to the homely ambiance of my cottage. Last, but by no means least, was Ivy’s engagement ring. So much more than a tiny diamond chip, this little ring represented Albert’s unwavering devotion as he pounded London’s streets, selling his wares and saving every spare penny to prove himself worthy of his beloved Ivy. I would never wear it, reluctant as I was to remove the small label written in Ivy’s hand. “For Cassie.”
~~~
“Cassie, do you remember all that kerfuffle quite a while ago, you know, Brenda and her shenanigans?”
“I remember it very well indeed, Elfie.” I smiled wryly at my friend. “And it wasn’t that long ago, either. Why?”
“Well, I’ve long since felt, even prior to that, that I owe you some answers, explanations, and I think that I’m ready for that now.”
Sitting opposite each other in my small living room, separated by a coffee table upon which rested cups and saucers, tea plates, and crumbs of boiled fruit cake, I waited.
“What are you doing the weekend after next? Would you like a weekend away, all expenses paid? It’s to do with my business, Cass, and I’d really appreciate your company. I know you’ve been curious, so here’s your chance to find out all about it. What do you say?”
Curiosity had demanded that I go, which explained why, at five-forty a.m. on the second Friday in October, I waited with Elfie in a side road leading from the village. “Too many nosey neighbours, even at this time of the morning.” Struggling to maintain a straight face, I said nothing. Precisely five minutes later, the largest, most gleaming black car I had ever seen purred to a halt beside us.
Fifteen minutes later we joined the motorway. I must have slept for quite a while, stirring only when Elfie patted my hand. “I don’t know, you youngsters,” she teased. “No stamina.”
I rubbed my eyes. “At the risk of sounding like a young child, are we there yet?”
Elfie chuckled. “No, Cass, we’re stopping for lunch. I reckon we’ll arrive around five-o-clock. Come on, I’m famished.”
The doorman of the obviously five-star hotel shared a friendly greeting with us, informing Elfie that her “usual table” was ready and waiting.
Throughout lunch Elfie gave no clue as to our destination or, indeed, her business. The hotel staff treated her like the regular patron she undoubtedly was, and I was beginning to realise that there was a side to Elfie Patterson that I had never even suspected existed.
~~~
The car eventually turned off into a private driveway, a very long driveway. Roadworks and a minor car accident meant that it was almost dark when we arrived. I gasped at the sight of a mansion worthy of a Jane Austen literary hero. It was lit up and I could only stare in admiration, thinking how entrancing it must look in the snow.
“Come on, Cassie, we’re late already and haven’t much time to change,” Elfie chivvied testily. “The others will expect me to greet them and mingle before dinner, they always do. Now,” she glanced at her watch, “Meet me here in half an hour.” And, with that, Elfie swanned off to ready herself. A uniformed maid appeared seemingly from nowhere and whisked me upstairs to my room, a veritable haven of luxury. In the brief time since leaving Elfie, my suitcase had been unpacked. Another maid stepped forward to help me get ready. Within the half-hour, I barely recognised myself. A few deft twirls of a hairbrush and my locks had morphed into a sophisticated “up-do”. I marvelled as Beth, armed only with a few brushes and a palette of powders, sculpted my face and eyes into the sultry goddess I had always known lurked within me.
Beth answered the knock on my door and introduced my escort for the evening. “Mr. Jackson Jackson, Madam.”
Jackson Jackson? For a few seconds I wondered what motivated some parents. Elfie’s chauffeur, now resplendent in evening attire so perfectly tailored as to ooze understated style, smiled warmly as he offered his arm.
“This way, Mrs. Harrington. Oh, and it’s “Jack” to my friends.”
Glancing up at this gorgeous hunk of a man, I could only blush as I replied, “And it’s “Cassie” to mine.”
~~~
“Well, young lady, did you enjoy yourself?” Elfie raised her eyebrows, grinning as she poured coffee. “You and Jack certainly seemed to hit it off. I’ve never seen him dance with the same partner before, for the entire evening.” My huge, glittering bubble of euphoria was swiftly punctured as I came back to Earth with a mighty bump. Of course. It all made sense now. The dishy chauffeur would obviously be trotted out to accompany the occasional single woman, a guest of Elfie’s perhaps, as I was.
“Yes, Elfie, it was a lovely evening, thanks, and Mr. Jackson was the perfect escort. Someone’s trained him very well indeed.” Elfie’s brows shot up again but now she remained silent, instead ringing for the removal of the coffee tray. That done, I broke the silence by asking why I was there. Elfie smiled and gestured towards the door of her sumptuous apartment. “A little fresh air, perhaps?”
Arms linked, we strolled along a winding, gentle incline, eventually stopping at the entrance to a small coppice. A sturdy garden bench bearing a plaque with the words “For the Angels” awaited us and we sat down. The view back to the mansion was breathtaking.
“I never allow collection of all those leaves until the rusts, golds and coppers start to get mushy and really unkempt. Well, you can see why. All that beauty.” Elfie turned towards me. “I’m at peace here, Cassie. When my time’s up, I want my ashes scattered here, with the little ones. Promise?” I promised.
“Well, long before we come to that, you can tell me about those little ones and what “For the Angels” is all about. Come on now,” I tenderly coaxed.
Elfie looked back along the path and spread wide her arms. “You see a beautiful, imposing mansion, standing amidst the palette of Autumn, don’t you Cass? I see a prison. I spent some of the worst, most humiliating and degrading days of my life there.” Horrified, I started to ask a question, only to be gently shushed. Elfie had finally opened the flood gates and they were not to be quickly closed.
SIXTEEN
After dinner on the Saturday evening I pleaded a headache and retired early to my room, escorted once again by Jackson Jackson. Thanking him politely, I simply entered and closed the door without a backward glance. Ignoring the knock that followed, I settled down to check my emails. In truth, all I could think about were Elfie’s revelations earlier that day, and they were certainly not the stuff of chatty missives to Honeysuckle and Lucy. Whilst true that she now owned the mansion, the cost to her soul did not bear thinking about. And I did not want to mention Elfie’s chauffeur. Gentleman that Jack undoubtedly was, he was still an occasional paid escort, and, while understanding that Elfie had meant well, I would rather have gone in to dinner unaccompanied.
The following morning, I thought a brisk walk around the spacious grounds after breakfast would blow away the cobwebs. Instead, I found myself once more heading for the small coppice, then sitting on the garden bench. “For the Angels”. Only now I knew who those angels were. Now I looked at the mansion and could see the prison
it had been for Elfie and many others. I remembered her voice faltering yesterday as her story unfolded.
~~~
“That great big yellow diamond ring you have, Cass, I remember seeing photos of it when I was a child. It originally belonged to my great, or great, great, grandmother. One of them, anyway. It’s even wrapped in an old piece of fabric from the gown she wore when her portrait was painted.”
“No! That’s simply not possible.” Even as I spoke, I realised that Elfie’s ancestor must have been one of “The Watchers” at The Lion hotel.
Elfie put a hand over mine and looked me in the eyes. “Yes, it is. George Shepherd is my brother. I grew up in Heatherbridge and my home was The Lion. When I was away a while back, I went to visit George. He’s very ill, Cassie.”
“Yes, I know. When I went to visit my uncle, Albert Smithers, the manager told me. Took the wind from my sails, I can tell you. I stayed on then for Albert’s funeral. Well, I had to arrange it. But I can’t believe…”
“How is Robbie Haskins, by the way? Seems a decent sort.”
“I’ve only met him once. Very pleasant and capable, I thought. Anyway, Elfie, tell me more about you. I’m intrigued. I can’t ever recall Mr. Shepherd mentioning you.”
“No. Frankly, I’d have been surprised if he had. We, shall we say, went our separate ways a long time ago.”
“Heavens, I’m struggling to get my head around all this…”
“Did you ever hear of, or even attend, any parties at The Lion, Cass?” I briefly shook my head. “Looking back, I think they were probably the start of my, and George’s, eventual downfall.”
If anyone else had told me stories of real children, never mind young adults later on, walking through a mirror into a spirit world, I would never have believed them. Frankly, I had trouble believing Elfie now. And the parties. Children’s tea parties in The Lion’s elegant garden, with spirit children!
“I admit it was a bit difficult as we grew up, squeezing through that mirror in the cellar. We couldn’t move it anywhere else for fear of giving the game away. You see, we’d never told anyone since we knew we wouldn’t have been believed.” Elfie chuckled. “You’re still not quite sure, are you, Cass?”
“The mirror in my bathroom, was that the one? Why the hell would Mr. Shepherd lumber me with that? I thought he liked me?”
“He loves you to bits, don’t ever doubt that. The woman’s face you saw belonged to the original owner of the yellow diamond ring. Apparently, she was a fun-loving old trout, loved a bit of harmless mischief. I had to shell out quite a bit to buy that mirror back at auction, thanks to you.”
“Serves you right,” I chuckled.
“George had hoped the spirits would protect you, that’s why he wanted you to have it. But, Cassie, I digress. George and I mistakenly thought we could carry on with the party lifestyle this side of the mirror. Consequently, we went off the rails; the wild kids of our day I suppose.”
The image of Elfie and George running amok as the wild kids of their day was not easy to conjure up. And now, on this peaceful Sunday morning, another unwelcome image hove into view.
“Good morning, Mrs. Harrington. Mind if I join you?” Jackson Jackson plonked himself down on the bench and smiled. God, but he was gorgeous! “I’ve brought some coffee, would you like some?”
“No thank you, and you’ve interrupted me. Well, my thoughts, to be precise. I was remembering a recent conversation.”
Jackson breezily apologised but made no move to leave. Instead, he foraged deeper into a weather-beaten old rucksack, eventually producing a foil package, the contents of which made my mouth water. “How about a bacon butty, then? Just the stuff for an autumnal picnic.”
I wanted to laugh, I really did. The poor man was trying so hard, and the bacon smelt delicious. However, if Elfie’s gigolo chauffeur thought that another notch on his bedpost was lined up he was very much mistaken. Standing up, I glared down at him. “Which bit of No, thank you don’t you understand, Mr. Jackson?” Then, knowing how childish and unreasonable I was being, I smacked the parcel of bacon sandwiches from his hand. “There, I expect the birds will enjoy those later.”
“Oh, for God’s sake! What a nasty thing to do! What the hell’s up with you? Do you know, I was really looking forward to meeting you. Mrs. Patterson told me how special you are to her, like a daughter. I was to escort you, and generally ensure that you didn’t fall into the clutches of any of the lecherous old toads that come to these weekends. Well, I won’t be there this evening so you can damn well fend for yourself.” And with that, Jackson Jackson gathered up the rucksack, flask and foil before glaring at me with utter disdain. As he strode off down the path, tears pricked my eyes and I fervently wished I had remained at home.
~~~
Elfie and I had enjoyed a sumptuous roast dinner, in her apartment rather than the formal dining room downstairs. Well, Elfie enjoyed her meal; I could only pick at mine. “I invited Jack to join us but, apparently, he’s not hungry. Very strange, since he loves a Sunday roast. Anything you want to tell me, Cassie? I wouldn’t ask, it’s just that we all have a long journey home tomorrow and some semblance of civility would be welcome. At the moment, your face looks like it could sour milk. Now, what’s up?” I remained silent. “What a shame,” Elfie continued, “Now I’ll have to give Jack his marching orders. Well, I can’t have him upsetting a guest, can I? And it’s pretty obvious you’re unhappy with him.” My friend clasped her hands together as she leaned, slightly menacingly, forward. “Listen, I may be getting on a bit, but I’m not totally ga-ga. I still sense atmospheres and notice death stares, you know.”
Faced with the prospect of Jack’s imminent dismissal, I spilled the beans, even the bit about the bacon sandwiches. “To be honest, I knew how childish I was being. Scott would have been horrified, and…”
Elfie raised a hand. “Let me stop you right there. Scott’s at the bottom of this really, isn’t he? Can I say something quite personal?” I nodded. “From my own experience, Cass, you never get over the loss. Eventually, though, you do come to terms with it. You’ve started that journey already, just by going back into your shop. You feel comfortable with that now, don’t you?” I had to admit that I did. “Well, then…” Elfie patted my hand, and that simple, kind gesture started a deluge of tears that I thought would never end.
Curiously, once my tears were spent, instead of feeling worn out I felt alive and ready to give life another chance. I apologised to Elfie for being such a wet blanket, but she just flapped her hands and would have none of it. “I’ve been there, dear. I understand. By the way, would you like me to have a word with Jack before you apologise to him? Just to smooth the path a bit. Besides, it was something I said that I believe triggered your apparent dislike of him.”
“He’s not coming tonight, he said I can fend for myself. Fend for myself against what, Elfie?”
“Never you mind. Now, why don’t you have a relaxing soak and, while you’re at it, send Lucy an email saying you’ll be staying here for a few more days. Let’s make a little holiday of it. Besides, there’s still more to reveal about this place.”
The email sent, I opted for a refreshing shower, after which I went in search of Jackson.
SEVENTEEN
Elfie’s chauffeur greeted me cautiously, before standing aside and allowing me into his apartment. “Sorry, Mrs. Harrington, I thought you were Beth. She was here just now and I thought perhaps she’d forgotten something.” Ever the gentleman, Jackson ushered me towards a chair before easing his tall, lithe frame onto a somewhat battered old leather sofa. Leaning towards me he clasped his hands. “Now, how may I help?”
I wanted to inform him that, for starters, he could dispense with the formality and call me Cassie. I wanted to see his eyes crinkle with humour, as they had when he had escorted me to dinner on the Friday evening. I wanted him to look at me rather than through me. And last, but by no means least, I wanted him to dance with me and make me feel special again,
even though I knew I was nothing to him. Beth, on the other hand, well, she was much younger and prettier than I.
“I’ve come to apologise, Mr. Jackson. I was churlish and unkind, and you merited none of it. I’m truly very sorry. And I can’t believe I ruined those lovely bacon butties, that alone should be a hanging offence. Do you think you can forgive me?”
“Hmm, quite possibly,” came the slightly sardonic reply. “Do you think that I dare offer you some tea or coffee, Cassie? Afraid I’m out of bacon…” Jack’s eyes duly crinkled with humour as he went to put the kettle on.
Ice broken and tea eventually drunk, he asked if I would like him to escort me that evening.
“To protect me from the “lecherous old toads”, I believe you called them. What’s that all about?”
“How much do you know about this place, Cass? Mrs. Patterson must have told you about these weekends. She’s a good employer, plays a straight game, you know. If you’re considerate and loyal to her, she’ll treat you the same way. That’s why I don’t want to go putting my size tens in it, telling you stuff she may not have told you yet.”
“I thought I knew Elfie pretty well, Jack. I certainly love her to bits and she’s been a sterling friend from the off. Lately, though, I’ve felt as though she’s part of a puzzle that I can’t quite solve. It turns out that she’s the sister of my old employer, but he’d never even mentioned her. And until a few days ago, I’d never even heard of this place. Oh, I knew she went away on business a few times a month, but that’s all. No details or anything.”
“Hmm, looks like there’s a big conversation that you and Mrs. Patterson need to have sometime soon.” Jack smiled at me. “You see, Cassie, I already know all about this set-up. All the what’s, whys and wherefores, you might say.” He glanced at his watch. “Now, since I have a dinner date this evening with a beautiful woman, I must go and turn myself into Prince Charming.” He walked me to the door, turning to me just before opening it. “I’m skating on thin ice here, Cassie, but it’s just possible that you may have believed me to double as a paid escort of some kind. Chauffeur during the day, gigolo at night, that sort of thing.” I blushed furiously. Jack chuckled gently at my discomfort. “Oh, it’s true that I turn up to these evenings now and again, and even hurl myself around the dance floor on occasion. But I tend to leave early, after just a few dances or so.” Wishing not to appear overly eager, he did not add, “And always alone.”
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