by Lynda Stacey
Jack smiled. ‘She was a wonderful lady. I do, however, remember being a little afraid of her at first. I’d never met a woman that was quite so sure of herself before, sir.’
Morris chuckled. ‘You’re right there, Jack. I was often a little afraid of her myself. Do you know, I used to feel her presence?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes. I used to sit here late at night, stare into the flames and swear that I could feel her walk past. I could smell her perfume. Oh, I know it was just my imagination, but I swear, I used to breathe in deeply and it was as though she really was there, sitting beside me.’ He sipped the amber whisky that he swirled round the glass. ‘For a while, I thought I was going mad. In fact, I probably was going mad; after all I’d been there when she passed away. But it was so clear. The smell was so distinct and I felt as though I wanted to run around the grand hall and find her. But it hasn’t happened for a while now.’
‘I’m so very sorry, sir,’ Jack apologised, bowing his head.
Morris laughed. ‘What would you be sorry for, Jack?’
He looked thoughtful in his reply and hesitated before he spoke. ‘I’m just sorry that you’re so sad, sir. It pains me to see you that way.’
Morris patted him on the knee in a gesture of thanks. ‘Don’t worry, Jack. I’m okay now. What I have to take care of is the future, not the ghosts of the past.’ He patted his pocket where he’d placed the letter that had long resided in his desk drawer. He knew who had written it. What he didn’t understand was why, but he intended to find out.
Chapter Sixteen
Madeleine tapped away at her keyboard. It was just after eight in the morning; the sun had just risen and a soft hue had drifted across the lawn and towards the woods. Her work in progress wasn’t coming along as she wished. Her characters were attempting to do their own thing and she found herself in turmoil as she attempted to correct her plot. The first draft of a book was always the hardest. Things happened that threw her in directions that she never imagined, but she knew that the only way to complete it was to battle to the end. It had to be written. The rewrite would help it shine, and the second rewrite would add the magic, then it would go to her editor. By the time the manuscript was finished, it would have been changed at least a dozen times or more.
Her eyes fell upon the diary. It had intrigued her and she picked it up and flicked through the pages. It had mentioned a secret staircase, a secret room and a bell tower, none of which she’d seen since she had been at the hotel. She walked along the corridor, wondering where the entrance to it might be. It obviously had to be hidden in some way, otherwise it wouldn’t have been a secret at all and all the servants would have easily known of its existence. The diary had said that it led to a room. She knew the house was big, but she thought that to hide a whole room within a house like this would have taken an engineering genius.
Emily’s diary had said that they let themselves in through the back door and had mentioned a panel. Her eyes searched the line of the wall, as her hand pressed on the wood as she went. She’d often seen it on television where people would tap, knock and kick panels to see which sounded hollow, but at eight in the morning, some of the guests would still be sleeping and a knocking in the corridor would not make them happy. Besides, surely if there was a loose panel, there would be some way of noticing it, something slightly or even remotely visual, especially if you were looking for it. Maybe the paintwork or the carpet in that area would look different, a little more worn, chipped, or scuffed.
A noise behind her broke her thoughts and she turned to see her father appear in the corridor. Even though it was early, he was formally dressed in a suit and tie. She smiled. It was so good to see him and her face immediately lit up as he approached.
‘Morning, Dad.’
‘Morning, Maddie,’ he said as he held out his arms for a hug. ‘Do you know what? I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of saying that. I love having you and Poppy here.’
‘And we love being here. You’ve made us so welcome and it’s so good to be able to spend time with you at last,’ she whispered as she hugged him back.
‘Well, now you’re here, we’ve got plenty of time to spend together. I can’t wait to show you the summer house, take you on a proper father daughter date or just simply show you off to all my friends.’
Madeleine blushed. ‘That would be amazing. I always wanted things like that and I really wished you’d come to my wedding, given me away and we’d have had the father of the bride dance. We missed out on so much. You’d have loved Michael; he was so special.’
‘Oh, Maddie. We’ve now got all the time in the world to dance.’ He pulled her back into a hold and began waltzing her up and down the corridor as they both suppressed laughter, still fully aware that people slept beyond the bedroom doors. ‘We don’t need an excuse to dance, my darling, we just need to make time in the day.’
‘I feel as though a part of my life went missing,’ she said as she stared up into his gentle, loving eyes.
‘It did and I’m so very sorry, but I promise I’ll make it up to you,’ he replied. ‘I really do wish I’d have met Michael. I’m sure he was a good and decent man. I was so sorry to hear about what happened.’
They both stopped dancing and stood awkwardly for a moment. Madeleine held back the tears that were threatening to flow and grabbed hold of the balustrade for support.
‘My world ended. I loved him so much. It was so unfair; he was taken away from me at a time when I needed him the most. Just like you. I really needed you as a child, but Mum took us away and then suddenly, you weren’t there at all.’ She felt guilty for saying this, but he needed to know how it had been for her.
Again he hugged her. ‘I’m so sorry. But, do you know what? I’m never going to leave you again. Not till we’re both old and grey.’
‘I know.’ Her mind flashed back to the teddy bear. Someone had been in her room while Poppy slept. She didn’t like it and knew that the whole teddy bear incident had been planned to scare her, which meant that someone didn’t want them there and she knew she wouldn’t settle properly until she found out who.
‘Do you?’ he questioned as he once again began to dance. ‘How about we start right away, let’s go out for the day tomorrow, all of us, my treat?’
Madeleine beamed. The thought of a family day out appealed. ‘That would be wonderful. Where are we going?’ she asked excitedly.
Morris looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Leave that one to me. I know just the place.’ He paused and then looked directly at her. ‘I’ll tell you what, why don’t you phone Jess? Ask her to come along too?’
Madeleine gasped. ‘Are you sure?’
He laughed. ‘Of course I’m sure. None of what happened was Jess’s fault and it’s about time we put the past where it belongs and leave it there.’
Madeleine sighed as the tears that had threatened now trickled down her face. ‘Oh, Dad. You have no idea how happy that makes me.’
He held her for just a moment longer and then turned to walk back towards the staircase. ‘I intend to make you happy. I have a lot of making up to do, a lot of things that I need to put right.’ He stopped and turned back to her. ‘What were you up to when I came along?’
‘Oh, nothing really. I found an old book. It’s an old diary of Emily Ennis. She mentions a secret staircase. It’s got me quite fascinated and, to be honest, I was being nosey and looking for it.’
Her father looked amused. ‘Really? Who’d have known that this old place had a missing diary and a secret staircase? That’s excellent.’ He laughed. ‘Could you spread the rumours around? You know, so the guests hear about it? In fact, let the papers know. Mystery gives a place like this intrigue; people will travel from miles to search for secret staircases, so if you find it, don’t tell anyone where it is.’ His laugh filled the corridor.
‘Do you really think people would come from miles around?’
‘I know so,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘A bit of myster
y and intrigue didn’t do the Orient Express any harm, now did it?’ He walked down the corridor and towards the back staircase.
Madeleine headed in the direction of her room, all the while carrying on her search as she went, checking each inner and outer wall that she passed. She even checked the space that was under existing staircases, but found nothing. The only loose panels belonged to the doors of the linen cupboards, which were all full to the brim of clean bedding, pillows and toiletries. Perhaps the secret staircase had been uncovered years before and could now be serving as one of the guest staircases which led up and down to each of the wings.
Madeleine made a mental note to try and find the original architect’s plans of the house. She knew that Emily had mentioned the bell tower but wondered if the diary would give any more clues that would make its whereabouts a little more apparent.
Madeleine headed back to her room where her daughter was wriggling around in the centre of Madeleine’s bed.
Madeleine smiled at the sight of her daughter, who sparkled with happiness. Slipping off her slippers, she crawled back into bed with her and wrapped herself as tightly as she could around her daughter.
‘Hey, baby girl. What you doing in my bed?’ She watched as Poppy closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. ‘You awake, Princess?’ she asked as she poked her in the ribs.
‘Nope.’
‘Don’t you fib? Yes, you are,’ Madeleine said as she began to tickle Poppy, who squirmed beneath her touch.
‘Arrrghhhhhh, Muuummmmmy … Stop, Mummy, stop.’
‘Not till you tell Mummy the truth.’ Madeleine laughed as she continued to tickle. ‘Are you awake?’
‘Arrrghhhhh, stop.’
‘Stop or what?’
‘Or, or, or, I’ll tell Mister Bang’it on you, he’ll get you,’ Poppy squealed as she jumped down from the bed and ran into her own room where she immediately dived into the centre of the teddy bear mountain.
‘Oh, will you now?’
Her daughter obviously believed that her new friend ‘Mister Bang’it’ would protect her from everything and everyone. Madeleine laughed as she thought of the muscle bound Bandit who’d sat the night before staring and stroking the pages of the diary with tenderness. She’d watched his face as he’d turned the pages in awe and was sure his eyes had been glistening, but she had no idea why.
‘Come on, get dressed,’ Madeleine said as she saw Poppy peer around the doorway of her room. ‘Mummy’s hungry. Is Poppy hungry?’
Madeleine thought of the breakfast that Nomsa had promised her. She’d watched plates of eggs Benedict on top of muffins, with crispy bacon going out to the guests the day before and had been assured that a plate full would be waiting for her the moment she got up.
But it wasn’t just the food that she looked forward to. She loved everything about the hall. She loved having the chance to get to know her father and wished that she could find a way to stay forever. But she knew the probability of that was slim and ultimately she knew that living in a hotel was hardly practical for a small child and she really did need to find her and Poppy a place to live. And even though it was nice that staff did everything for you, she needed a home where she cooked her own breakfast, cleaned her own windows and made her own beds, especially if someone did resent them being there.
Her mouth salivated though at the thought of the food that was prepared downstairs. It all smelt amazing, but if she kept eating it at the rate that Nomsa wanted to feed it to her, she’d end up the size of a house by Christmas. Especially when normally she spent most of her day sitting on her bottom in front of her keyboard.
‘Goodbye waistline,’ she whispered as she changed into a comfy pair of old jogging bottoms. She winced as she lifted her leg; her bottom and lower back still hurt from the tumble she’d had in the mud the night before and she made a mental note to try and take it a little easier for a day or two, but with a three-year-old and a puppy, taking it easy would be more difficult than it sounded.
She looked down at the jogging bottoms and then at Poppy.
‘Come on, Poppy, let’s find your welly boots. I think we’ll go for a bit of a walk in the garden before breakfast. Do you think Buddy would like to go and run in the woods?’
Chapter Seventeen
Bandit walked back through the trees and towards the hall. He loved his early starts to the day, the time before the rest of the world woke up and before the sun had fully risen. It was a time when he was all alone, at one with his thoughts and with nature.
Soft droplets of rain spat down making the grass glisten with diamond shaped beads. The ground underfoot was still soft and muddy following the thunderstorm the previous night, but the air was clean, fresh, and crisp and smelt of the fast approaching frosts that would soon be upon them.
A noise came from the behind the hall. It was a squeal, followed by a bark and then the contagious sound of a child’s laughter, which could only mean one thing. Hiding in the trees he watched as they emerged, Madeleine and Poppy walking hand in hand while Buddy ran on ahead with his ball clearly in his mouth. Dropping it on the floor, he spun around impatiently waiting for it to be thrown and Bandit noticed Madeleine rub her back as she bent to pick it up.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard laughter as he did right now. Josie’s sudden illness and death had brought a dignified but very obvious silence to the hall.
Morris and Josie had arrived as the new owners one Christmas, bringing a fresh new ambience to the hall. Christmas trees twenty-five feet high had been erected in the parlour, the dining room and the bar. All were decorated with the most beautiful ornaments, and gifts were laid out for each and every member of staff. They’d built an atmosphere of love, which had surrounded the rooms, yet a constant air of professionalism was maintained. The refurbishment of the rooms began, each one decorated to the highest standard, the fires were once again lit and the whole hall had been brought back to life.
Bandit remembered the first Christmas that he’d been here after he’d left the marines. The family and staff had all sat together later that evening for a huge Christmas dinner. He’d had the feeling of once again belonging to a community of people who all worked towards the same aims, all providing a first-class service to those who came to stay at the hall. It had overwhelmed him to begin with, but both Nomsa and Bernie had welcomed him with open arms, put him at ease and included him in their day to day work at the hall.
Then, without warning, the Christmas before, Josie had gone and for months it had been like someone had deflated a balloon. All the air had been sucked out of the house and everyone had worked on professional autopilot. Everything had changed and everyone quickly realised that nothing would ever be the same.
Bandit walked back towards the house, hiding the three pheasants, six ducks and a rabbit in the greenhouse. He’d taken to putting them in a sack since Poppy had arrived. The last thing he wanted was to scare her by carrying the dead animals past her in the grounds. He headed to the back door.
‘There you are, my boy. I bet you smelt my tea brewing?’ Nomsa smiled as Bandit walked in. He took off his boots and washed his hands in the utility room before sitting down at the kitchen table. This table was his favourite place at Wrea Head Hall. Everyone sat around it every day of every week. It was like having a huge family gathering on a daily basis. However, he dreaded to think how many gallons of tea he alone would have drunk here. Not to mention the cake, breakfasts and afternoon teas. He rubbed his stomach with contentment.
‘I certainly did. I kind of thought I could smell scones too, but I could be mistaken,’ he said cheekily and winked at Nomsa as she poured the tea.
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were some kind of a mind reader,’ she replied with a giggle and her deep Caribbean laugh began to fill the room. Walking over to the range, she picked up two freshly baked cherry and coconut scones from the cooling tray.
‘Nomsa, I don’t need to be a mind reader. It’s Friday. The Women’s Insti
tute come for afternoon tea on a Friday, and you always bake cherry scones. It’s like a tradition.’
‘Ahhhh, get on with you. I should have known better,’ she said as she buttered the scones. ‘What you going to be doing today?’
‘Well, it’s the last day of the month so I’ll be going into town to visit my father.’
‘I bet your daddy will be pleased to see you.’
‘He probably won’t even notice I’m there.’ Bandit shook his head and took a bite of the scone.
Again, Nomsa thought before she spoke. ‘You’d be surprised what your daddy would notice. He probably knows a lot more than you think.’
Bandit shook his head. ‘I hope you’re right. The only thing he ever talks about nowadays is this old place.’
‘Well, that’s because this place holds memories of his happy times. You have to remember, he was a strong, independent man before the accident.’
Bandit took a second bite of the scone and chewed.
‘Nomsa, we both know it wasn’t an accident. The driver that hit him was drunk and now a part of Dad’s brain is dead and will never be repaired.’ It was true. What was left of him now was a seventy-three-year-old man who’d been reduced to having the mind of a child. It was an existence where nothing made sense.
Nomsa turned to the kettle, picked it up and filled the china teapot that stood on the table. ‘Does he remember the gatehouse?’
Bandit nodded. ‘All he does all day is talk about the gatehouse, about the hall and about the past. He seems to believe that there are secret tunnels that lead between one and the other. Everyone around him thinks he’s a bit mad. But do you know what? I think some of what he says could be a real memory. I just have to work out which parts are real and which parts are not.’
He looked out through the window. Madeleine was walking back to the house. She kept stopping to rub her back and to wait for Poppy who kept sitting down on wet grass at every opportunity she got, while Buddy ran circles around her, dropping his ball and tugging at the sleeve of her jumper with his teeth.
