Returning to her room she drew from her bag the little wedge-shaped cushion that made it possible for her to sit on an ordinary chair in an upright posture. Tucking it under her hip she sat at the dressing table, took out her notebook and made a record of what she had learned so far. She also tried to recall which individuals had been in her company when she had seen the figure at the window. They included all the party of visitors, Mr and Mrs Honeyacre, Mrs Malling and Miss Pet. The maids, Mr Gillespie and Mr Malling, however, had been busy with their duties and she could not with any certainty place any of them at the time of the unusual appearance.
Mina’s previous experiences of séances meant that she was, more than most people, aware of the fallibility of memory. Nellie had assured her that much of the success of a magician’s tricks depended on this, as well as the ease with which audiences could be distracted and the quirks of the human eye, an organ very prone to lead its possessor astray.
Had the figure she had seen not disappeared so quickly, Mina might have concluded that what she had seen was only a garment stand or a painting. A shape which was there one moment and gone the next was far more concerning. The glowing apparitions commonly produced by spirit mediums could only be convincing in a dark séance. This daylight figure was different. Had she really, for the first time, seen an actual ghost?
Mina was impatient to know more and decided not to wait until she was called for luncheon, but went downstairs, where she found Kitty and Miss Pet playing with the dog in the hall. The little creature was bounding about as if it wore tiny springs on its paws, uttering sharp yaps of excitement, its pointed pink tongue glistening. Kitty gathered it up and buried her face in its silky fur. ‘Isn’t he a pretty angel?’ she exclaimed.
‘Most endearing,’ said Mina. ‘What is his name?’
‘I call him Little Scrap, because he is one,’ said Kitty. ‘But are you not chilled here, Miss Scarletti? Come into the parlour where we can be warm.’
Miss Pet opened the door of a small but comfortable parlour and Mina noticed that she was careful to close it securely when they were inside. It was a room designed for ladies with beautifully upholstered armchairs, a small pianoforte and a tea table with silver dishes for sweetmeats. A fire crackled busily in the grate and when Miss Pet took some twigs from a Japanese vase and tossed them onto the glowing logs there arose a fresh perfumed aroma.
Kitty fondled the little dog on her lap and uttered a deep sigh. ‘We do not know each other very well, Miss Scarletti,’ she began, ‘but I hope that that will be corrected very soon. I am told that you are brave and clever and know all about how to lay ghosts. I would be so grateful if you agreed to help me.’
‘I am at your service,’ said Mina, relieved that the unspoken subject was to be broached at last. ‘I promise that I will do whatever I can. Please tell me everything.’
Kitty’s gaze wandered about the room, as if searching for the right words. ‘I did not visit Hollow House before I was married,’ she said at last. ‘Benjamin said that it was being decorated and wished to spare me the discomfort and inconvenience and, in any case, he wanted it to be a surprise. He is so considerate — I wish all ladies had a husband as kind and thoughtful.’ She sighed again. ‘My first impression when he brought me here was what a curious house it is. I was quite prepared to like it as much as Benjamin does and make it my home. But —’ she fondled Little Scrap’s ears, which twitched in response — ‘something here is wrong. Oh, I don’t just mean the haunting, though that is disturbing enough. It is not a happy house. I feel it has bad memories — secrets — things in the past it cannot forget that linger even now and affect everything that happens within.’
‘Forgive me,’ said Mina, ‘but you are only telling me your impressions. What I need to know is what have you seen? What have you heard? And what have you been told?’
‘How practical and sensible you are!’ exclaimed Kitty with a smile. ‘I knew I did the right thing to ask your advice. Yes, of course. We have two maidservants, Mary Ann and Susan. They live in the village and their families are hardworking and devout. Both girls are respectful, industrious and as sensible as anyone can be under the age of twenty. Not long after I came to live here, Mary Ann came to me and asked if anything was needed for the lady visitor. I told her there was no lady visitor expected. She said that a lady was here as she had seen her. I knew nothing of this, but I supposed that Benjamin could have invited a lady and forgotten to mention it. He can get very absorbed in his studies, you see. I went to ask him and he was as surprised as I was. He sent for Mary Ann and questioned her and she said that she had seen a lady, dressed all in white, in the first floor corridor just outside the room where he keeps his paintings and curios.’
‘The one next to Minerva,’ said Mina.
‘Yes. When we asked her for a better description she said that she had only seen her in a moment’s glance and then when she next looked the lady had gone away. Benjamin and I both went up to look, but no one was there and there was no sign of any lady visitor. We discussed it and I said that I thought it must have been a mistake, perhaps Mary Ann had only seen the moonlight shining through the window. Benjamin agreed with me, but I could tell from the way he said it that he thought it might be something more. You know about his studies, of course.’
‘I do,’ said Mina. ‘He is very eager to have his beliefs justified. That is not to say he is mistaken, but in cases of doubt he will be too willing to accept the explanation that most closely matches his opinion. We are all guilty of that in one way or another. I do not exclude myself. What did you say to Mary Ann?’
‘I told her it must have been a trick of the light and she should not worry about it. But even as I did so I began to think of other things that had happened, things I had dismissed, strange noises that I had assumed were natural in a house of this antiquity, scraping and creaking and tapping.’ She gave a little shiver. ‘I have not slept well since. Every small noise wakes me and when I do sleep I have strange dreams — at least, I think they are dreams — but how can one tell?’ She looked appealingly at Mina.
Mina was not sure she had an answer. ‘You may well have been correct about the light. Its quality will change with the seasons, the weather and the waxing and waning of the moon. Have you yourself witnessed anything that disturbed you?’
Kitty allowed a little frown to mar her forehead, but quickly dismissed it. ‘Yes, but not clearly. Sometimes it seems to me that I see something out of the corner of my eye, something moving, gliding, just slightly apart as if it does not want to be fully seen, but when I turn my head, hoping to catch it, nothing is there. I am fearful that my mind is playing tricks on me.’
Kitty said nothing further on the subject, but Mina realised that her hostess was beginning to have doubts about her sanity and understood the reluctance to express herself in any greater detail. If a man had such experiences he would write a book about them and travel the length and breadth of England to give lectures. A woman might find herself drugged with sedatives and confined to her bedroom.
‘Mrs Honeyacre,’ said Mina encouragingly, ‘I think that on that point, at least, I can reassure you. I recently had a most interesting interview with an oculist, a Mr Marriott of Brighton, who was able to demonstrate to me that the eye, even when in perfect health, is the most easily deceived of all the organs of sense. A shadow, a ray of light, a patch of mist, all quite natural things, can seem in some circumstances to be more than they are.’ Mina considered mentioning the white figure she had seen as an example, but decided against it until she had made an examination of the room. At this juncture she might only spread further alarm.
‘Thank you,’ said Kitty, ‘I will remember that. But Mary Ann was most insistent that she had seen a lady, seen her so clearly that she thought she was a living person. And then —’
‘Yes?’
‘Not long after that, Susan came to me in a great fright and said that she had seen the lady, too, and was so certain that she was a real per
son she had actually gone to ask her if there was anything she required, but the lady ignored her and walked into the storeroom.’
‘The storeroom?’ Mina almost protested that the room was kept locked and just stopped herself in time. It was not something she would be expected to know. ‘Perhaps she merely lost her way? A new visitor to the house might do that. Or — since I assume the room was once a bedroom — the lady could have been a former guest or servant who made a mistake?’
‘No, Miss Scarletti, that is not possible,’ said Kitty with great firmness. ‘The only persons who have a key to that room are Benjamin and Mrs Malling and it is always kept locked. Benjamin tells me that the things he keeps there are extremely valuable and that seems like a wise precaution, especially as there are so many workmen coming here. Only when the collection can be put on display will the room be opened up and redecorated for use. Also —’ she paused and stroked the little dog, gazing down at it affectionately — ‘the room was not formerly a guest bedroom. It was once a nursery and also we think it was where the nursemaid slept.’
Mina nodded. ‘And you are sure that it was not Mrs Malling that Susan saw?’
‘No, the figure was far younger — and a great deal more slender. Besides —’ Kitty hesitated — ‘Susan said that the lady did not open the door to enter the room. She — she walked right through it.’
Chapter Four
The room was silent and even in front of the warm fire, Mina felt a chill. ‘Miss Pet?’ she asked. ‘Have you anything to add? Have you seen anything of a similar nature?’
‘No, Miss Scarletti,’ said Miss Pet. Her voice was soft, like a carefully modulated exhalation. She was not unhandsome, although her face was over-long with sharp prominent bones. Mina could not help wondering if Miss Pet was being untruthful and trying to conceal any exhibition of feeling. If she had witnessed something alarming she might well wish to keep it to herself so as not to disturb Kitty.
‘What of Mr Honeyacre? Has he seen this figure? Or anything else? If so, he has not mentioned it to me.’
‘No, he has seen nothing,’ said Kitty with a humourless laugh, ‘and believe me, I would know of it if he had. He would not be able to keep it a secret from me, or indeed anyone else. He has heard the noises, of course, we all have, and I have known him to leave his bed in the middle of the night, take a candle and go searching about, hoping to find their origin, but without result.’
Mina understood. ‘Then he is unafraid of spirits and eager to encounter one?’
Kitty nodded. ‘Oh yes! He would welcome it, run to question it, embrace it as his dearest friend. In fact, I have been wondering if it is this very eagerness to make contact with the spirit world that has encouraged these appearances. Perhaps the spirits were always here in the house, but quiet and unseen, just waiting for the right person to come and live here. Perhaps Benjamin, through his studies, his thoughts, has unwittingly created an atmosphere that has brought them out. You know that half his library is now composed of books about the spirit world? Can that be a good thing? I don’t think it is. I know we all enjoy a good ghost tale, something with which to amuse ourselves as we sit around the fire at Christmas, but as to pursuing them — that is a sport I would rather leave to others.’
Mina could see that, despite Kitty’s affection for her husband, his devotion to his spiritualism was causing her unease. While Mr Honeyacre was aware of his wife’s concerns about the haunting, how fully had she expressed herself to him about his pursuits? That was a subject which Mina would not broach. But, she wondered, to what extent did Kitty’s fears affect her perception of events in the house?
‘Tell me about your own beliefs,’ she said. ‘Before you came here did you believe it possible for us to contact the spirit world, or for spirits to contact us? Did you attend any séances? Did you see or hear ghosts?’
Kitty and her companion exchanged glances.
‘In the world of the theatre,’ Kitty replied, ‘there are ghosts everywhere: stories, legends, tales of tragedy. Not only in plays, but in the buildings themselves. When the audience has departed, when all is quiet, then the ghosts come. They appear on darkened stages and act out their mysteries; they sit in the auditoriums and lurk in dressing rooms and in the wings. People see and hear them; they are shadows constantly watching, voices in conversation, echoes. We smell them even; hints of perfume, of tobacco smoke. It’s the emotions, you see. Theatrical persons, whatever part of that profession they occupy, are creatures of great passion. Rivalry, jealousy, love stolen, love disappointed. These feelings are so much greater and more concentrated than in other walks of life. But we don’t fear our ghosts, we treasure them, we never seek to expel them. They are old companions; they can bring us good fortune. In some theatres, a dark figure watching from the gallery predicts full houses and a long and successful run. Myself — I have heard things; whispering voices, distant music and I have seen moving shadows, but mostly I just feel when someone is there.’
Mina felt the surge of excitement she always experienced when confronted with a new and valuable mine of story ideas, but took care to restrain herself. There would be time enough to learn more about haunted theatres when she had laid to rest the ghost of Hollow House. ‘Mrs Jordan might think differently,’ she observed.
‘Dear Nellie,’ said Kitty affectionately. ‘But, of course, her business is conjuring and illusion. Conjurors can create ghosts to order out of nothing. So they cannot find it in themselves to believe in the real thing.’
‘What about Mr and Mrs Malling? What do they say? In all the years they have lived here, have they not been troubled?’
‘Their apartments are in the newest part of the house, the stables wing. There has never been a haunting there. But I often feel that they might know more about the white lady than they say. Mrs Malling has been trying to calm and soothe the maids, so she would not want to pass on any tales of her own in case it upset them further. I think she might be willing to talk to you. Shall I ask her?’
‘Yes, please do. And if you don’t mind I should very much like to look inside the storeroom.’
‘Of course. I will let her know. And if anything should occur — if I or Miss Pet should see or hear anything, we will tell you at once.’
‘Thank you, but I beg of you, don’t go looking for strange things. Even if there is nothing there your eye and your mind can make shapes out of shadows and all you will do is frighten yourself. And, after all, consider this — even if there is a spirit here, is it something to fear? It might be a troubled soul. Perhaps we should pity it and give it comfort and peace.’
Kitty nodded, but she looked dubious. ‘But there are bad spirits, too. If we let in the good the bad might come with it.’
‘I see no sign of that,’ said Mina, firmly.
‘Then what do you advise? What must I do?’
‘Try to be your usual self. Find some pleasurable occupation for your mind. I will do what I can to solve this mystery, as will Nellie and Dr Hamid. They have helped me before and we have had some good results.’
Kitty smiled. ‘I think I feel better just for having spoken to you.’
A soft melodious rumble sounded from the hallway. ‘We are being summoned to luncheon,’ said Kitty, rising to her feet and cuddling Little Scrap who, judging by his alertness, knew exactly what the gong heralded.
Miss Pet rose and peered out of the window. ‘The rain has stopped at last.’
‘Then I anticipate a tour of our little church this afternoon,’ said Kitty. ‘It is very old indeed, dedicated to St Mond.’
‘I have never heard of a St Mond,’ said Mina.
‘His story has been lost,’ said Kitty. ‘Another mystery. But then Ditchling Hollow is a place full of mysteries.’
In the long dining hall the curtains had been thrown back to reveal a sky washed by pearly clouds with a milk-white sun glowing through.
Mr Honeyacre took his place at the head of the long table and looked about him at the assembled compan
y. ‘How delightful to see you all here! I declare that this is the first such gathering since we took up residence. The first of many, I hope.’
‘I expect the house has seen many a grand dinner or ball in its history,’ said Mina, in an effort to prise useful conversation from her host.
‘Oh, I do so hope it has!’ exclaimed Mr Honeyacre with some feeling. ‘This should be a place of sweet content, of the higher pleasures of the mind, of music and art and learning and laughter, and good food.’ He gave a sharp little exhalation of regret.
‘How long had the house been empty when you purchased it?’ asked Dr Hamid, as the maids, under the eagle eye of Mr Gillespie, brought the luncheon dishes in.
There was a pause as a steaming platter of hot cutlets in gravy was brought in, together with a dish of cold roast chicken garnished with salad and devilled eggs. Cheese, biscuits and fruit compote were put on the sideboard.
‘I believe it had then lain empty for some fifteen years,’ said Mr Honeyacre, looking more cheery to see the eyes of his guests brighten with anticipation. ‘I purchased it from a nephew of the former owner, a Mr Lassiter. The family were racing people and intended to run a stables here, which is why the west wing was constructed, but the plan never came about.’
‘Why was that?’ asked Mina, as the maids passed around the table, offering the dishes and pouring wine and water.
The Ghost of Hollow House (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 4) Page 4
