Fury's Ghost

by Sue Perkins

  I’m trying to help the old lady and she only gives me bits and pieces of information. How am I supposed to find out her mother’s birthday date?” Fury laughed at her own stupidity. “Of course, I can look it up on the internet. There’s loads of family history information if you know where to look.

  Sitting cross-legged on her bed, Fury booted up her laptop and searched for family history. After hitting several sites that wanted payment for searches, she found one that would allow her to go through various records for free.

  A quick search for Edward Mune brought up the business details of Ellen’s father. This wasn’t of much use, but it did give her some dates to work with.

  “Online newspapers,” Fury muttered to herself. “Marriages and births.”

  The records had no mention of Edward’s marriage, or the birth of his daughters.

  “His wife died when Margaret was born,” Fury recalled. “His children’s births weren’t important enough to put in the paper, but I wonder if his wife’s death held any importance.”

  Scrolling through the death columns for roughly the year of Margaret’s birth didn’t bring anything to light.

  “What I really need is someone who knows the history of the area. Someone like Samantha’s mum, maybe.”

  Fury sat and thought about it. All she needed was Ellen’s mother’s birth date. Did that really warrant taking the risk of her friend thinking she was loony?

  No, it doesn’t. There must be another way. When Mum comes back I’ll ask her if she knows Margaret’s date of birth. Fury decided to go down to the library to see if she could find inspiration there. Might as well take the laptop with me.

  In the library she moved one of the armchairs nearer to a side table, then curled up on the soft seat. No sooner had she settled than Fury jumped up again to try the hidden door to the safe.

  “Now what did Ellen say. Bottom right corner of the right-hand carving. Ah here we are. A little bunny rabbit peeking out of his warren.” Fury’s fingers slid into the carving of the cave and pulled. At first nothing happened but a stronger tug moved the small wooden door. Over the years it had stuck through misuse but now it came loose and showed the metal safe behind it.

  Fury tried turning the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Well now I know the safe is still locked. The combination dial looks like in the movies.” She sat back on her heels and pushed the carved door shut once more, then returned to her chair.

  Her mother had mentioned Ellen died a little over a hundred years ago and the ghost looked as if she had been about eighty at the time of her death. This meant the old lady’s mother would have died about seventy-eight years before Ellen.

  Which doesn’t help with her birth year.

  Fury returned to her laptop and brought up the free family history page. First she searched for Ellen Mune’s death. This search proved surprisingly easy.

  Probably because it’s more recent.

  “Ellen Mune.” Fury read. “Declared dead 20 April 1889, by order of the Coroner of Timaru as said Ellen Mune has been missing without trace for seven years.”

  “So Ellen died in 1882, and her mother might have died in 1804. Plus Margaret would have been born then too.”

  For several moments she sat tapping her teeth with a fingernail, but no other ideas strayed across her mind. With a shake of her head she closed the lid of the computer and stood. As she moved toward the door a thick volume in the middle of the shelving caught her attention.

  “I wonder...” Fury put her laptop down again and went over to lift the book from its resting place. “Family bible. I didn’t really check it properly. Maybe it’s got a family tree in it.”

  The bible was heavy so Fury put it on the table and opened the front cover. Nothing. Carefully she heaved it over and checked inside the back cover. Again nothing.

  “Drat! I thought I’d got something there.” As she hefted the bible to replace it on the shelf, it slipped from her fingers back onto the table where it spread open, revealing the middle pages. “Well I’ve never heard of family trees being in the middle before. Good job I dropped the book.”

  Fury bent over the pages and found Ellen born 1802 and Margaret born 1804, with their father noted as Edward. “Here we go. Mother was Heléne Dianne Mortfort, born 1775 died 1804. Edward and Heléne married on 10 September 1895. Oh great. Why can’t they give the whole birth date instead of just the year?”

  She decided to try the birth year on the combination lock, but sighed with frustration when nothing happened. “Guess I need the whole thing. I think it’s back to the computer for me.”

  After carefully searching the genealogy sites she could only narrow it down to the nearest three months as each year was divided into quarters.

  “The marriage date is given in full, why can’t they do the same for the birth date? Well I suppose there’s only one way to find out. I’ll have to try all ninety or more dates over the three months of the first quarter of 1775. I do wish Ellen would stop mucking about and give me the correct information.”

  After trying one week of dates Fury gave up and decided to go and see Ellen again to make her give the complete date.”

  “Fiora, are you in here?”

  Fury quickly shut the wooden door hiding the safe, stood and brushed her jeans and t-shirt in case there were any signs of her recent activities. She hurried to the door and got there at the same time as her mother opened it from the hallway.

  “Oh there you are. It’s almost dinner time.” Her mother stood on the threshold of the library and looked around. “Why do you want to spend time in this gloomy room? It smells of dust.”

  Without any further investigation, Fury’s mother turned and led the way into the hallway.

  Well I guess confronting Ellen will have to wait until tomorrow. I won’t have time after dinner.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Ellen’s thoughts moved forward to the time she and her sister had both fallen in love. Unfortunately, they had chosen the same man.

  As usual Margaret won the prize.

  Bitterness flooded through Ellen. The thought of the man she loved choosing her sister still made her angry. After being spurned, she refused to consider anyone else. Her father arranged a marriage with a business partner, a man old enough to be her father, but Ellen refused to meet the man and he’d gone elsewhere for a bride.

  Could that be why I can’t pass over? Because I disobeyed my father’s wishes? Or because I wouldn’t speak to Margaret, her husband or her children?

  Ellen admitted to herself it could be either of these reasons. The only person she’d felt close to after her mother died was her mother’s father, but he’d died before her seventh birthday. The governesses all considered her a sulky child, whereas Margaret shone like a little ray of happiness. Even her father seemed to prefer Margaret. Probably because her younger sister looked like their mother, whereas she took after her father.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Fury headed for the attic floor, determination in every step.

  If Ellen won’t tell me her mother’s birth date, I’ll leave her to moulder away in her bedroom. I’m not going to help her if she won’t help me.

  Once in the bedroom Fury faced Ellen.

  “You have to tell me your mother’s birth date. I can’t find any record other than the year and the quarter of the year. If you won’t help me, how can I open the safe and get your diaries?”

  I’m sorry I can’t help you.

  “I won’t be able to do any more then. You’ll have to stay here forever.”

  Fury turned away, hoping this ultimatum would force Ellen to reveal the date.

  It’s not that I won’t help you. I can’t. In my mother’s era you didn’t ask a lady’s age. Only those close to her would know her birth date. She died when I was two years old so I never really knew her.

  “So you don’t know the date?” Fury had never thought this might be the case. Now what could she do?

  No. My father and h
er father would have known exactly when she was born, but they didn’t tell me and I don’t think Margaret knew either. Does this mean you can’t help me leave?

  “I might be able to find them in the parish records, if she was born in this parish. If your mother wasn’t born here there’s no hope of finding it. I’ll have to think about it. You’re sure your father would have used the date for the combination?” Fury prayed Ellen would give her some other possibilities, but the ghost shook her head.

  He would have used something he cared about. My mother. He favoured Margaret out of the two of us, but mother was the love of his life.

  Later, in her room, Fury sat cross-legged on the bed and thought what her next step could be.

  “I’ll have to get Samantha and Cora involved so they can help me work out how to find the information.”

  Revealing her ghost to her two friends was harder than she thought. Fury invited them over on Saturday afternoon and they sat in her room with lemonade and biscuits provided by Fury’s mother.

  “Hey, Samantha. I’m kind of intrigued by your mum’s hobby of genealogy. It must be neat to know who your ancestors were.”

  “I suppose so. You know who your ancestors are though. Didn’t you say you were descended from Ellen Mune’s sister Margaret?”

  “Yes, but that’s only a few generations. I don’t know anything about her father Edward or her mother. According to the family bible her mother was called Heléne Dianne Mortfort, born in 1775 and died 1804. I’d need more information to find her parents. For instance where was she born? Here or in another part of the country?”

  “I think it’s interesting,” Cora chipped in. “I don’t know anything about my father’s family, and very little about my mother’s. Maybe we can do some research together, Fury.”

  “I’d like that.” Fury could see if she helped her friend with her family research, she’d be able to keep the real reason for her search a secret. Her hopes were dashed when Samantha looked at her with a frown.

  “Wait a minute. What’s the sudden interest in genealogy? You couldn’t care less about the family when you first got here. Your mother must know all about Ellen’s sister. What’s going on?” Samantha got up from the bed and stood with arms crossed looking down at the two still on the bed. Fury sighed. This was her friend’s ‘I’m going to find out and I’m not moving from here until you tell me’ look.

  Fury took a deep breath and dived into her explanation.

  “On the attic floor there’s a door hidden by a tapestry. The key was in the lock on the other side but I managed to get it over to my side using a wire coat hanger and a newspaper. No wait...” Fury held up her hand to stop Samantha from interrupting. “I opened the door and inside there’s a skeleton lying in a bed. It’s Ellen Mune’s skeleton. She never left the house, but they didn’t find her because the tapestry hid her door.”

  “How do you know it’s Ellen?” Samantha asked suspiciously, while Cora looked at her with eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “She told me it was her.”

  “Ellen told you. How could she do that if she’s dead?” Samantha’s disbelief showed in her voice.

  “Her ghost told me.” Fury slid off the bed. “Ellen thought if I unlocked the door she’d be able to pass on to wherever the spirits of dead people go. Didn’t happen – she’s still here.”

  “Wait. Let me get this straight.” Samantha ticked off each fact on her fingers. “You found a door hidden behind a tapestry. You got the key from the inside and unlocked it. Inside there’s a skeleton in a bed and a ghost who says she’s Ellen Mune. Have I got it right?”

  “Yes. And before you ask, my mother, father or brother don’t know any of this.”

  “Can we meet Ellen?” Cora sounded breathless with excitement.

  “I’d have to ask her before I let you into her bedroom, but if I explain we need Samantha’s mother’s help she might be willing.” Fury wasn’t sure if Ellen would agree, but it could do no harm to ask.

  “Let’s do it now. Come on.” Cora rushed toward the door but Samantha stopped her.

  “Hang on a minute. Is this ghost friendly and why do you need to know her mother’s birthday?”

  “Sorry I forgot to tell you that bit. Ellen thinks she might have a task to do before she can pass over. The reason might be in her diaries, which she put in the safe in the library. Her mother’s birthday is the combination – she thinks.”

  “Ellen does an awful lot of thinking.” Samantha looked thoughtful. “Okay, let’s go talk to this ghost.”

  “Let me check there’s no one about first.” Fury did a tour of the kitchen and poked her head in her father’s office, then checked Jonah’s room. Her father had sprawled out on the sofa in his office and the rest of the house appeared empty. She rushed back up to the girls and they climbed the stairs to the attic floor.

  Fury pulled the chair toward the tapestry and hooked it up on the back then unlocked the door.

  “Let me check it’s okay with Ellen first.”

  On first entering the room she couldn’t see the ghost, but gradually Ellen’s form became visible in a corner.

  You have people with you. Her tone sounded accusing.

  “They’re my friends and they want to help. Samantha’s mother does family history and she can find your mother’s birthdate. Don’t worry, we won’t tell her about you, but my friends would like to meet you. Is it okay?”

  Several moments passed while Ellen thought about the request. Eventually she nodded her head, but didn’t seem at all sure she wanted to meet other young girls.

  Fury beckoned her friends in and Cora came in with a smile on her face. Samantha’s expression looked suspicious, but both girls’ eyes opened wide with surprise when they caught sight of the skeleton in the bed.

  “This is Cora and this is Samantha. This lady is Ellen Mune.” Fury stood back after she’d made the introductions. Cora stepped forward, excitement showing in her every movement.

  “Hi. I’m pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand and Fury hid a smile.

  “She can’t shake your hand, Cora, it would pass right through.”

  I thank you for the thought though.

  “How do we know you’re really Ellen Mune?” Samantha’s tone still held a lot of suspicion. “You could be a ghost who’s just pretending to be her.”

  “Why on earth would anyone pretend to be someone else’s ghost?” Cora surprised both the other girls with her question.

  Your friend has a point. I could be someone else. In the drawing room there is a painting of myself and my sister. You should be able to recognize me from that.

  “Ellen, we need to know as much as possible about your mother. Whatever you can tell us.” Samantha had obviously made up her mind the ghost was the real Ellen.

  I don’t know any more than I’ve told Fury. My mother died at my sister Margaret’s birth. I don’t really know how old Mother was or where and when she was born. My grandfather said he named her after my grandmother, but I’m not sure if that helps.

  “We’ll have to see what we can do. Thanks for letting us meet you, Ellen.”

  The girls left the room and Fury carefully locked the door and swung the tapestry back into place.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Do you think your mother will be able to help?” Cora asked, as the three girls made their way to Samantha’s house after school on Monday.

  “If Mum can’t, there won’t be much chance of finding details on Ellen’s mother. My mum’s pretty hot on family history. She knows all the places to look.”

  Samantha’s mother sat down at her computer when her daughter explained what they wanted.

  “So you see, Mum, Fury wants to know a bit more about the family she belongs to. Although they know the names of Ellen and Margaret’s parents, that’s all they know. Edward was a well-known businessman, but his private life is unknown. All Fury knows about his wife is her name and the fact she died giving birth to Margaret.”

&
nbsp; “Give me the information you have, Fury, and we’ll start from there.” Samantha’s mother’s fingers flew over the keyboard as Fury told her what she’d found out.

  Occasionally Mrs Peel commented with sounds of mm mm, aha and other nondescript sounds but ten minutes passed before her comments took on a more positive note.

  “Here we are. Margaret died on 10 February 1889, about four years after Ellen disappeared. She had married and had four children. Two boys and two girls. Both boys married and one had a daughter, the other a son, then the male line died out. Your mother is the granddaughter of one of the son’s daughters, Fury. Now Margaret was born in 1804 and her mother died within a few days of her birth.” Mrs Peel moved the cursor to a new position. “Here we are, Heléne Dianne Mune, died 18 September 1804, aged 29 years, which puts her birth year as 1775.”

  Fury moved restlessly. She already knew most of these details, what she needed was the actual date of Heléne’s birth.

  “Now. Let’s look at the records for 1775. Heléne was born as Heléne Dianne Mortfort in the first quarter. Hopefully one of the search sites will give us the exact month, if not the exact date. I’ll try the parish records.”

  Fury held her breath as Samantha’s mother leaned closer to the monitor.

  “Nothing there. Let’s try the next parish.” Mrs Peel swung the cursor onto another link and the screen changed again. “Ah, here we are. Heléne Dianne Mortfort, baptized 21 March 1775. This means she could have been born any time before that date. A child was usually baptized within two weeks of birth to make sure it’s soul was safe and the mother could not leave the house until the child was accepted by God.”

  Once again fingers flew across the keyboard, then suddenly stopped. With a movement of her fingers Samantha’s mother enlarged the record she was looking at.

  “I’ll print this out for you, Fury. Basically it says Heléne was born on the 10 March 1775 to Arnand Pierre Mortfort and Heléne Marie Mortfort (nee Couchard). Is that what you wanted to find out?”