I look at him blankly.
He sighs, then smiles. ‘I’m rushing you – I’m anxious to work out the puzzle and am getting carried away. Let’s start at the beginning. Can you tell me your name?’
‘Martha Sutcliffe.’ I know that at least. Or do I? The name seems wrong now that I’ve uttered it, and the doctor has a strange look on his face. Worried.
‘Martha Sutcliffe,’ he repeats.
‘Yes. No.’ I realise I don’t know. I’m certain now. That isn’t my name. I stare at the man, feeling helpless. Tears prickle at my eyes and my breathing quickens. Who am I?
‘Don’t worry.’ He pats my arm. ‘You’ve only just woken, things are bound to be confusing at first. It’s nothing to worry about, we’ll just give it a bit of time. I’ll come back and see you tomorrow.’
The door opens. ‘Are you ready for us?’ A woman’s voice.
‘Ah, I’m not sure. Are you up for a visitor? It might jog your memory.’
I say nothing. A woman dressed in a strange blue smock pushes someone into the room.
I stare at the man in the wheeled contraption.
‘Harry!’
‘Martha! God, please no, get me out of here! Get her away from me!’
Darkness rushes back to claim me and I gratefully spin away from the image of the husband I killed. I know now, this is the madhouse, and Harry the devil that will plague me for the rest of my days and beyond. But I’m not in Bedlam, no. I must have died too, I’m in Hell.
2.
‘Here you go, Jayne, coffee,’ one voice says.
‘Double shot?’ says the other.
‘Of course. I don’t know how you sleep at night, the amount of caffeine you consume.’
It’s the she-devils with the red lips, I realise. I keep my eyes closed.
‘Any sign of waking?’
‘No. I wondered a minute or two ago, but nothing.’
‘We should swap her water for your coffee, Jayne, that would keep her awake.’
The two women laugh. Are they talking about poisoning me? I focus on keeping my breathing steady so they won’t realise I’m listening to their plans.
‘Vikram says The Rookery is nearly ready,’ one of them says – the one called Jayne, I think.
‘Yes, it’s looking great. Mo is just finishing off the tiling in the en-suites and he’s decorating Verity’s apartment too.’
‘There’s nothing in the budget for that.’
‘He’s doing it as a favour for me.’
‘Ah, so that’s going well, is it? Good, I’m glad. You deserve to be happy, Lara.’
‘Happy? With Verity just lying here?’
‘You know what I mean.’
A sigh. ‘Yes, ’course I do. I’m just remembering how excited Verity was about The Rookery, and meeting William. Then that stupid séance! Oh why did I do it?’
‘We were trying to help, Lara. Nobody could have predicted Verity and William reacting like this – and if we’d even thought it could happen ... Well, to be honest, none of us would have believed it and we’d have carried on anyway.’
Silence. I imagine the one called Lara nodding and hear her sniff.
‘Too much was happening in that building, it was freaking us all out.’
‘Yes, and escalating too. Those birds, and then when I saw the Grey Lady.’
‘I know, Lara. And I’m sorry I ridiculed you when you first talked about orbs and spirits.’
‘It’s fine, Jayne. You need to see or experience something to believe, otherwise it’s all claptrap. I understand.’
‘Well, I know better now, and it was all centred round Verity and William.’
‘I wonder who Martha and Harry are. Were.’
My ears prick up. Were?
‘I’ve been doing some research,’ Jayne says, her voice quiet and careful. ‘They’re both mentioned in the parish records – their marriage is recorded anyway: April 1837.
‘So they definitely lived in Haworth.’
‘Yes, and died there.’
Died?
‘Maybe they’re trying to talk through Verity and William, send a message. It’s strange that they both woke at the same time, spouting the same names. It’s got the nurses in a right state. Some won’t even come into their rooms, and the doctors are befuddled too; nobody knows what to make of it all.’
‘Has anything else happened at The Rookery while you’ve been staying there, Lara? Anything at all?’
‘No, nothing. I’ve told you already. Even those awful birds have gone since Vikram put those rubber spikes on the window ledges and guttering.’
‘Good, he said they’d do the trick. If there’s nowhere for them to perch, they’ll move on.’
‘You really like him, don’t you, Jayne? How’s it going?’
Silence. What’s she doing?
A clap. ‘That’s wonderful! And about time, you’ve been on your own for far too long!’
‘It doesn’t seem right with Verity ...’
‘Verity won’t mind a bit. She’s only ever wanted you to be happy, you know that.’
‘Yes.’
I open my eyes and stare at them both. ‘Who’s Mo?’ I croak.
They stare at me, then slowly smile, and both lean forward. Jayne grabs my arm, Lara my hand, and I notice she’s scraped most of the nail varnish off her finger nails.
‘Verity?’
‘Yes.’ I nod. ‘Yes, it’s me.’
***
‘Ah, Ms Earnshaw, back with us I see, good, good.’
I blink until the blob of pale colours coalesce into a man. The doctor. I say nothing. I don’t quite know what to make of him.
He looks down at his clipboard, turns over a few pages, then puts it down and clears his throat.
‘Your case is ... most perplexing.’
I raise my eyebrows.
‘We can find no sign of any kind of injury, nothing to explain why you’ve been unconscious for three months.’
I stare at him, it seems I can do no more.
‘And ... well ... I’m afraid we have so far been unable to determine the cause.’ He wrinkles his forehead, clearly expecting me to make a comment, then continues when I remain mute.
‘What is even more perplexing is that your, er, friend, passed into unconsciousness at the same time, and, er, well, appears to have woken at exactly the same moment as yourself. As you know, he also suffered the same delusions as yourself, although unfortunately, has not come out of it the way you have. He still thinks himself to be somebody called Harry.’
‘What?’ The news shakes me out of my stupor. Is William still stuck in the nightmare?
‘As I say, we can find no physical cause, so I have asked a colleague from Psychiatry to come and talk to you both. Although I will still want to see you regularly as well in case any symptoms re-emerge, or you experience any other, well, strange behaviours or beliefs.’
‘Strange behaviours or beliefs?’ I question.
He shrugs his shoulders. ‘How else would you put it?’
The door bangs open, followed by an immediate apology as Lara spots the doctor. I realise I don’t know his name, then another thought grips me.
‘Lara – William still thinks he’s Harry.’
‘Yes, I know, Mo and Vikram have been trying to get through to him, but haven’t managed it yet. His sister, Rebekah will be back at the weekend, hopefully she’ll be able to help.’
‘I’ll deal with Harry,’ I say. I pull off the sensor clamped to my finger, and fling the blankets back.
‘Ms Earnshaw, I really must caution you—’
He’s too late. I’ve swung my legs over the side of the hospital bed and placed my feet on the floor. I crumple as I put my weight on them, just as he says, ‘—to stay in bed.’
Lara helps me back up – neither she nor I would wait for a nurse – and I look at the doctor, my eyes wide with fright.
‘As I was trying to explain,’ he begins, then glances at Lara and softens unde
r her furious glare. ‘You have been in bed for three months. Muscles lose their condition very quickly, and I’m afraid it’s going to take some work to build your strength back up.’
‘What do you mean, some work?’ Lara asks.
I lie in the bed, out of breath and terrified. If I can’t stand or walk, how on earth am I going to live in and run a three-storey guesthouse?
‘Physio,’ the doctor says. ‘Somebody will be along shortly to get you started, but if you’re determined enough, you’ll be back on your feet and running in a few weeks.’
I’ve had enough. I close my eyes and will oblivion to take me away. Just for a little while. Then I’ll concentrate on learning to walk again.
3.
‘I need to see William,’ I say after the doctor has gone and I feel stronger again.
‘Verity, no, you heard what the doctor said. You need to concentrate on getting your strength back,’ Jayne says.
I glare at her. ‘I’ve been asleep for three months. During that time, I lived another person’s life. It sounds like William still is. I’ve got to help him out of it.’
‘I grant you it’s strange you had the same dreams—’
‘It was not a dream!’ I stop, realising my voice has risen into a shout. ‘It wasn’t a dream,’ I repeat more calmly. ‘I was Martha, I wasn’t dreaming about her, I was living her life, feeling her emotions, walking in her shoes.’
‘And William still thinks he’s Harry,’ Lara says.
‘Exactly – he’s still trapped. I’ve got to help him. Maybe the sight of me will shock him out of it.’
‘Shock him out of it?’ Lara questions. ‘Exactly how does this story end?’
I shake my head. I can’t tell my two best friends that I killed Harry. No, that Martha killed Harry. I shake my head again, this time in confusion, trying to make sense of the last image of my dream. Did Martha kill him, or have I just assumed she did? I’m no longer sure what is real and what isn’t.
‘I’ll go get you a wheelchair,’ Lara says.
‘But the nurses,’ Jayne protests. ‘They’ll stop us – you heard the doctor.’
‘The nurses are freaked out by the pair of them – haven’t you noticed they won’t come in here or into William’s room unless they have to?’
‘I just thought they were busy,’ Jayne says. ‘They’re run off their feet.’
‘Well, that too.’ Lara smiles at Jayne. ‘Either way, they won’t stop us. I won’t be long.’
She slips out of the door and is gone before Jayne can say anything more.
‘It’ll be okay, Jayne. I have to do this. I have to help him get back to himself.’
Jayne sighs, then sits down by the bed and takes my hand. ‘I know you do, Verity, and I’d do the same. We just don’t know what we’re dealing with and I’m scared that you confronting William, or Harry – or whatever’s doing this to him – will only make things worse.’
I squeeze her hand with a small smile in reply.
***
Jayne approaches the door of my room, checks both ways, then beckons us forward.
Lara pushes with rather more enthusiasm than I expect, and I grip the armrests of the wheelchair as it careens through a ninety-degree angle between the doorway and corridor.
A stern-looking nurse in a dark blue uniform looks at us in surprise, then frowns. ‘And just what, exactly, is going on here?’
I feel like a schoolgirl again, caught running in the corridor by a teacher.
‘She’s feeling very cooped up,’ Jayne says. ‘We thought we’d take her out and about for a change of scenery.’
‘I see.’
I regard the woman, doing my best to keep my face blank. I wonder if I imagine her shudder when she meets my eyes.
‘Very well. Don’t be too long. The physiotherapist is due in an hour to start,’ she glances at me, then looks back at Jayne before continuing, ‘Ms Earnshaw’s rehab.’
I narrow my eyes. Why doesn’t she speak directly to me?
She bustles past, still refusing to look at me.
‘I think you’re right, Lara. That woman looked terrified!’
Neither Jayne nor Lara say anything, and I don’t blame them. What is there to say?
Lara starts pushing again, and my wheelchair trundles forwards. For the first time I wonder if Jayne’s right, and I should let William find his own way out of the past.
I open my mouth to tell Lara to halt, but instead she tells me, ‘Here we are. This is his room,’ as Jayne pushes open the door.
***
I see Vikram and another man first – Mo, I guess from the way his eyes light up when he sees Lara. Vikram looks at Jayne in just the same way. They’re both half-standing, half-sitting on the windowsill and I wonder why they aren’t using the chairs by the bed.
I look at him then, William, and recoil at the look of horror on his face.
‘It’s okay, William,’ I say, hoping at least a part of the real him is awake and can hear me. ‘It’s me, Verity, you’re safe.’
The others in the room stare at me in confusion.
‘Harridan!’ William – no, Harry – shouts. ‘Murderer! Get thee away from me! I have no wish to see thee!’
Lara gasps from behind me. I ignore her. I have to get through to William.
‘That was Martha, William. And a long time ago. She didn’t mean to do it.’
‘Thee broke me neck!’ Harry screams. ‘Killed me after I loved and cared for thee!’
‘No. Martha killed Harry, William.’ I struggle to keep my voice calm. ‘You’re alive, you’re William Sutcliffe. Harry and Martha lived a long time ago – they’re both long gone.’
‘Get away, get away, get away from me, thee hear?’
‘What on earth is going on in here?’ The door bursts open and the nurse in the dark blue tunic we’d seen in the corridor bustles into the room.
She looks at me – glares. ‘I might have known.’ Then she turns her gaze on Lara and Jayne. ‘A change of scenery, you said. Get her back to her room, while we calm Mr Sutcliffe. He needs to rest.’
I realise another nurse has entered behind the bossy one, and she’s already at William’s bedside, syringe in hand.
‘Sorry,’ I whisper. ‘I thought I could get through to him.’
‘Just get her back to her room. Everybody out. Now.’
We obey, Vikram now pushing my chair as Lara – tears threatening – walks with Mo’s comforting arm around her. No one speaks.
4.
The physio helps me stagger back to the bed and fall on to it. I lie there for a few moments, out of breath, waiting for the hot trembling in my legs to calm down.
They begin to feel less like jelly and more like flesh and blood appendages of my body, and I heave myself fully on to the bed with a grunt.
Another rest, then I turn and manage to get myself under, and the blanket over. I lie back on the pillows panting with effort. This is ridiculous, I’ve only walked a few yards to the bathroom and back! How am I going to manage all the stairs at The Rookery?
It’ll be months at this rate, yet they’re sending me home in a couple of days.
A knock at the door, and I force my features into a smile as Lara’s head pops round it. ‘Are you up for visitors?’
‘Always,’ I say, my smile turning genuine as Hannah bursts into the room, runs to the bed and jumps up to give me one of the most welcome hugs of my life.
I squeeze back, holding her tight, although even that hurts and tears are threatening. Not of sadness, but a jumble of emotions. Relief, joy at being loved, fear and love of my own for the little girl in my arms, her mother, and her other ‘aunt’.
‘It’s good to see you,’ I say.
‘Let Auntie Verity breathe, Hans,’ Lara says. ‘You’re suffocating her.’
I shuffle over a little to make some room. ‘Here, you stay up here with me, Hans.’
‘How are you feeling?’ Jayne says as she takes one of the chairs and Lara the o
ther.
I frown, then catch myself. I’ve come to hate that question in the last few days, but I know Jayne is asking out of genuine concern.
‘I’m okay – getting there, anyway. Is there any news of William?’
Lara narrows her eyes at me, knowing I’m avoiding telling them how I really feel, but Jayne answers before she can say anything.
‘He’s coming out of it, but is still quite confused. Occasionally he talks as if he’s Harry still, but Vikram says he can see more and more of William every day.’
‘Do you think he’ll see me?’
‘Not yet, Verity, sorry.’ Jayne leans over and grasps my hand. ‘He’s still very confused, and after last time ... well, best to give him some space; he’ll come to you when he’s ready.’
I nod, unsure what to say. I was feeling so sorry for myself only minutes ago, yet William is still struggling to free himself from the nightmare of Harry and Martha.
‘How about you?’ Lara asks. ‘Are you still aware of Martha?’
I consider her question. ‘Not in the same way as when I woke up. I can still remember everything, even how she felt – I felt it all myself and it’s like a memory. But I know I’m Verity, I think Martha’s gone.’
‘Think?’ Jayne pounces on the word.
I shrug and give Hannah a squeeze. ‘How can I know for sure? All I can tell you is that while I have her memories, I’m fully cognisant that she’s a third party.’
‘Fully cognisant,’ Lara repeats. ‘You’ve seen the psychiatrist then.’
I give a small laugh. ‘Yes. Not that she was any help. She has no real idea of what happened, and the best she can say is that it was some kind of mental break.’
‘But William having the exact same one at the same time,’ Jayne says. ‘How does she explain that?’
I shrug again. ‘Mass hysteria.’
‘Mass? It only happened to the two of you,’ she protests, ‘and whilst I don’t know William, judging by his friends he’s not the hysterical type, and I know you’re not.’
‘As I said – no real idea.’
‘Is she going to keep you in?’ Lara asks.
Ghosts of Yorkshire Page 67
