The Ghost of Hollow House (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 4)

by Linda Stratmann

  ‘I would be grateful for that,’ said Mr Honeyacre. ‘When would be convenient?’

  ‘The sooner the better,’ said Mina.

  Chapter Seven

  Mina decided to interview the maids in her room, where their conversation was less likely to be interrupted. She made it especially clear that she did not want a senior servant present. Mr Honeyacre agreed to this and Mrs Malling was asked to send the maids to her individually. Mina held her notebook and pencil ready and waited.

  The first to arrive was Mary Ann. She was a sturdy girl with a round face and sand-coloured curls. There was a steady look in her large grey eyes and while her expression showed that she was a little curious as to what was to occur it revealed no trace of timidity or fear. Mina made sure that she was comfortable, offering her a seat by the fire, facing her own. Mary Ann took it with alacrity, the friendly gesture not appearing to cause her any unease.

  ‘Mary Ann, do you know why I wish to speak to you?’

  ‘Yes, Miss. Mrs Malling said you know all about ghosts and hauntings and wanted me to tell you about what I have seen here,’ she said, her voice confident and even.

  ‘But first of all, I would like you to tell me about yourself,’ said Mina.

  Mary Ann, it transpired, was the granddaughter of Ned Copper. She was eighteen and had been born in Ditchling Hollow, where she had lived most of her life. She had been sent out to service in Clayton at the age of fourteen, but had not been happy in that place as she thought her mistress was unkind and she had therefore been eager to return to her family and home village when she heard that the big house was to be occupied and needed maidservants.

  Mary Ann lived in a cottage with her grandfather, widowed mother and two brothers. Her brothers worked on the land and her mother kept house and did washing and mending. All were regular attendees at the church of St Mond.

  ‘I saw your grandfather when I visited the church,’ said Mina. ‘He was walking in the graveyard. I was told that he has many interesting stories to tell about the history of the village.’

  ‘My grandfather has second sight,’ said Mary Ann, with a note of defiant pride in her tone. It was clearly not something that occasioned her any discomfort. ‘He sees things other people don’t see and sometimes it turns his mind to strange thoughts. He thinks things that no one else can even imagine. Some people say he has lost his mind, but I don’t believe it. There are those in the village who are afraid of him and some of them send him little gifts to keep on his good side. He knows more about strange things than anyone else round here and more than he will ever let on.’

  ‘Do you have second sight?’

  Mary Ann smiled. ‘I think I might have a bit of it. Mother don’t. My brothers don’t. At least they say they don’t, but sometimes I think they do and don’t want to admit it, or people might think they are like grandfather. They just want to do their work and get their wages and not be bothered. I’ve been used to strange things all my life and I know that some are not to be feared.’

  ‘What about in Hollow House? Do you know what is happening here?’

  The maid looked thoughtful and her gaze moved about the room, as if looking for spectres. ‘The goings on here are different. It’s not like when I dream of father or see grandmother standing at the foot of my bed. I feel safe then. Here — I can feel it sometimes; it’s something that lives here but doesn’t always want to be seen. It doesn’t like other people in the house and it will do what it can to make them go away.’ She leaned forward a little, as if imparting a confidence, her voice hushed. ‘I think that there will come a time when the old part of the house will fall down. It might catch fire, or sink into the mud, or just crumble away. The new part might remain, because no one cares about that, but no one will want to live there. And that will be the end of Hollow House.’ She sat back, triumphantly.

  ‘So,’ said Mina, her pencil poised, ‘tell me what things you have seen and heard here that you think are not natural. When did it start?’

  Mary Ann settled comfortably into her story, her manner suggesting to Mina that she had told it often. ‘The very first week I was here, at the end of December, it was, I saw the white lady in the corridor. I didn’t know who she was and I said “excuse me”, but she didn’t reply. I thought maybe she was a deaf lady, so I went and asked Mrs Malling what was wanted, only she said there was no lady staying here. We both went and looked but there was no one. Mrs Malling said it was a trick of the light but I knew better.’

  ‘What time of day did you see her?’

  ‘It was evening. I carried a candle and saw this great thing that was all pale like a bride.’

  ‘Did you see her face?’

  ‘No, she had her back to me and after I spoke she went away.’

  ‘Did you see where she went?’

  ‘No. When she didn’t answer I went back down the corridor to see Mrs Malling and when I looked back the lady had gone.’

  ‘Was it a moonlit night?’

  ‘Oh yes. Full moon. That’s when the ghosts come out. It’s like day to them. When Mrs Malling said no lady was here that was when I knew what it was I saw. After that I never went down there after moonrise.’

  ‘Whereabouts in the corridor was this lady?’

  ‘Outside the room we use for storing things. The one painted with horses.’

  ‘Do you ever go into that room?’

  ‘I do; just to air it and dust and mop the floor. Mrs Malling has the key and lets me in. I don’t like that room.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s just a feeling I have. It’s cold. And I think there’s something in there, watching me. I don’t like that big mirror. I won’t look in it. I think if I was to look in it I might see something I don’t want to see.’

  ‘But what have you seen apart from the white lady?’

  Mary Ann gave a little smile, the smile of someone who knew something that others did not. ‘Things move. All sorts of things. I put them down and then when I next look they are somewhere else. I thought at first it was Susan playing tricks on me, but she said not and I believe her. She sees it too. Cups and plates — they sometimes slide along the shelf on their own. I’ve seen that happen with my own eyes. And when I go to look at them there isn’t anything there, no reason why they should have moved. It’s almost like — a child playing. A bit of mischief. I heard it laugh once. At least that was what it sounded like. Not a nice laugh, either. Grandfather said —’ she paused.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s not nice to think about, but he said that there was a bad child lived in this house once. And a bad nursemaid. And they both disappeared and no one knew what became of them. But sometimes he hints that he knows something more. And it isn’t anything good.’

  Susan Parker was aged sixteen. She was a small, slight, pale girl and unlike Mary Ann she looked frightened. Her father John was an agricultural labourer and her older sisters were in service in Clayton and Burgess Hill. Before coming to Hollow House she used to help her mother at home and she and her younger brothers tended a small plot of vegetables and looked after some chickens. When the owner of the big house was looking for maidservants it had seemed like a good opportunity to work indoors where it was warm and clean and she was very happy to be given a place. She had no complaints about the work. Mr and Mrs Malling had treated her very fairly and Mr Honeyacre was a kind gentleman. Mrs Honeyacre used to smile and be cheerful when she first came, but then that all changed. Things happened that were very upsetting, things she couldn’t explain and she knew that they were not natural.

  ‘Tell me about these things,’ said Mina.

  Susan’s mouth trembled as she spoke. ‘Soon after I came here I saw the white lady upstairs and I knew what it was because Mary Ann had seen her too. Only, when I saw her, she walked right through the closed door. I saw her face, too. She had a horrible expression — eyes sunk right into her head, mouth open as if she was crying and couldn’t stop. I thought that she was suffering a great s
adness that nothing could make better. And then things started to move — little things at first, like plates and bowls, they would slide along the shelf without anyone touching them. I have seen things jump right off a shelf when I was on the other side of the room and no one else was there. Or I would hear them falling to the floor and breaking when I was outside the room and when I went in there would be broken pieces on the floor and no one about. Once I went into the dining room and all the chairs had been turned over.’ She took a deep gulp of breath. ‘But that wasn’t the worst thing.’

  Mina said nothing but waited for the girl to go on.

  ‘I feel things, too. I hear things. Sometimes there is a hand laid on my arm when no one is beside me. I can feel it is a hand; I can feel the fingers and the nails. And it’s not warm like a living hand, but cold like a corpse. Often I hear a woman crying. I remarked on it but no one else could hear it. They said it was my fancy, or the wind in the chimneys, but it wasn’t.’ Susan’s eyes were wide and bright. She pressed the hem of her apron to her forehead and shuddered. Still, Mina said nothing; she sensed that there was more to come.

  Susan wiped her face and tried to compose herself. ‘One day, Mrs Malling asked me to go into the storeroom to dust. I didn’t like to as I thought there might be bad things in there. But I had to do what I was told. She has the key and let me in. I started to work and then I saw it. There is a child’s toy there, a rocking horse. It comes from a time past, before Mr and Mrs Honeyacre lived here. I never touched it, I never went near it, but it started up all on its own, back and forth, back and forth, and the wood creaked like it was hurting and then I heard the child laughing, only it wasn’t a nice laugh, it was a wicked laugh and I think I screamed. Then Mrs Malling came running and found me on the floor. I think I must have fainted. And the horse was still rocking away. It was still moving. Mrs Malling saw it. She said it was just the floorboards settling because of me walking about, but I don’t think it was. So I won’t go in there anymore. And Mary Ann and me, we don’t come in when it’s full dark. And even now, even in the light, I still feel afraid.’

  When Susan had gone Mina studied her notes and was quite absorbed in them until there came a knock at the door. It was Mrs Malling.

  ‘I am sorry to say, Miss, that the rain has ruined all our plans,’ she said, ‘but we are to have luncheon at the usual time and tea at five o’clock. Mrs Blunt has made her special sponge cake and a fruit loaf, which you really must try. And there will be steak pie for dinner. That is Mr Honeyacre’s favourite.’ She paused. ‘I do hope Mary Ann and Susan were properly respectful and told you what you wanted to know.’

  ‘They have been very helpful, thank you,’ said Mina. ‘I have a great deal to think about now. I only wish I could see one half of the things that they have seen.’

  ‘Oh, you don’t want that, do you, Miss?’ asked Mrs Malling with some surprise. ‘Why, most ladies would go a long way not to see such things, if such things exist. I know you have been to séances and all, but this is something very unsettling.’

  ‘It is. I was considering consulting Reverend Ashbrook, but now it looks as though I shall not be able to meet him before I go home.’

  ‘Do you think he should come here and say some prayers?’ asked Mrs Malling. ‘I’m not saying there is anything in what Mary Ann and Susan say, but it might make them feel better.’

  ‘Susan told me you saw the rocking horse move on its own after she had fainted.’

  ‘I did. I was outside the room and heard her fall to the floor in a faint and when I went in it was moving, but I told her that was just the floorboards. They are old boards, Miss, and will bend a little in some places as you step on them. I don’t think there was anything more in it than that.’

  ‘You are almost certainly right,’ said Mina. ‘Have you ever seen plates and cups fall off the shelves as Susan has?’ She glanced about the room, but the ornaments on the mantelpiece resolutely refused to fling themselves to the floor.

  ‘There have been some things broken, but I put that down to carelessness. Things not put away properly.’

  Mina nodded and closed her notebook. ‘Is Dr Hamid about? I would like to speak to him.’

  ‘Yes, I believe he is in the library. He was with Mr Honeyacre this last hour looking at antiquities and now says he needs to consult a book.’

  Mina thanked Mrs Malling and sought out Dr Hamid in the library. He was seated at the reading desk, poring over a volume entitled The Antiquities and Customs of Sussex. Whatever it was he was looking for he had clearly not found it and was content to put his book aside. It was an opportunity for Mina to advise him fully of all she had learned thus far. He listened carefully and with some concern about the tragedy of the Lassiters, the supposed curse on the village, the infernal child, the missing nursemaid, the sightings of the white lady, the mischievous rocking horse and disobedient chinaware. She also felt obliged to mention Richard’s visit and the fact that her brother had been responsible for the noises in the church, upon which he pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned. Mina reassured him that since Richard had not tried to repeat his visit she was hopeful that he had been able to return to London before the roads were flooded and Dr Hamid expressed his sincere wishes that this was the case.

  They studied Mina’s notes together and agreed that thus far there was no real evidence of anything attributable to spirit visitations other than old legends and sights and sounds that could all be explained by natural events.

  ‘My main concern at present is not the laying of ghosts or placating wandering spirits, but the health of the living,’ said Dr Hamid.

  ‘Yes, I was hoping that Reverend Ashbrook could come here after church and offer some comfort and good advice, but that will not happen this Sunday. I am less worried about Mary Ann. She has had fewer troublesome experiences than Susan and since she is Ned Copper’s granddaughter she has a more robust attitude to such things. Susan, on the other hand, is easily frightened and sees and feels and hears ghosts everywhere. I can only assume it is Mr Honeyacre’s kindness to his servants that keeps her here. I am also very worried indeed about Mrs Honeyacre. Mrs Jordan had planned to bring her back to Brighton with us on Monday, but that is now impossible.’

  Dr Hamid tapped the volume on the desk with his fingertips, deep in thought.

  ‘Have you learned anything of interest?’ asked Mina.

  ‘Possibly. This story you have just told me of the Lassiters’ missing son. There may or may not be a connection, but Mr Honeyacre asked me to look at some items amongst his collection of curios. There are some unusual fragments and he wondered if I could comment on them from a medical point of view.’

  ‘Fragments?’ queried Mina.

  ‘Yes. He showed me some splinters of wood. They were dressed and varnished wood — he thought perhaps the remains of a casket, but so old that it was hard to tell. And there was a piece of fabric that had been found with them, which appeared to be velvet. It was dark with age and decay, but I think it might once have been red. There was another object found together with these things that Mr Honeyacre wanted me to identify. Of that one I had no doubt. It was a tooth. Almost certainly a mammalian tooth. If human it was far too small to be that of an adult. Beyond that, I could not offer an opinion.’

  ‘It sounds like the remains of a burial,’ said Mina. ‘Where were these things discovered? In the graveyard at St Mond’s? Given the heavy rains we have experienced I would not be at all surprised if old burials were sometimes exposed to the elements by the weather. Surely such things should not be made part of a curiosity collection, but given a proper Christian reburial?’

  Dr Hamid looked very serious and took a deep breath before he replied. ‘It appears that the items were discovered by one of the villagers, who drew a little map to show the location and brought it and the remains to Mr Honeyacre. They were not found in the graveyard, but just outside it. They were buried in unconsecrated ground.’

  Luncheon was a gloomy affair. Kitt
y ate almost nothing and Nellie’s efforts at brightening the atmosphere by discussing the costume ball fell on stony ground, even after Mr Honeyacre tried to join in the conversation with desperation flickering in his eyes.

  The dishes were not yet ready to be cleared when there was a patter of rapid footsteps outside. ‘Is that the ghost?’ whispered Mina to Nellie. ‘I rather wish it was, as I would have something to say to it.’

  When the door opened they saw not a ghost but the flushed face of Mary Ann. ‘Oh, Mr Gillespie,’ she gasped. ‘I am so sorry to interrupt, but there is a gentleman and his companion come to the back door as it would not be right to do anything else in their condition as they are dreadfully travel-stained. Their carriage broke down in the mud on the way from Clayton and they have walked all the way here. They say they have come to stay.’

  ‘To stay?’ remarked Mr Gillespie, with the slightly raised eyebrow that, on his features, served as astonishment. ‘Well that cannot be right as no other guests are expected.’ He glanced quizzically at his master.

  ‘That is true,’ said Mr Honeyacre, who seemed equally mystified. ‘I have invited no one else. But perhaps they are bound elsewhere and in view of the weather could go no further. A gentleman, you say?’

  ‘Yes, sir. The older man was very well-dressed and both are respectable looking.’

  ‘Well, if he is a gentleman and he and his companion are in need of accommodation in such dreadful weather we can hardly turn them away,’ said Mr Honeyacre mildly. ‘Did he give a name?’

  ‘Yes, sir, he said he was called Hope. Mr Arthur Wallace Hope.’

  Chapter Eight

  On hearing this momentous news, Mr Honeyacre, with profound apologies to the company, left the table at once and hurried to speak to his unexpected guests.