The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor

by Amy Reade

  “I’ve decided to call Harlan and ask him flat out why this business card was in Granddad’s coat pocket.”

  “Good. I’m sure that you’ll feel better after he’s explained the whole thing.”

  “Will you talk to him with me?”

  I squirmed uncomfortably. I had no desire to be a part of that conversation. “Why do you want me to be there?”

  Evie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d just feel better if you were there with me, that’s all.”

  “What about Heath?”

  “I don’t want to have to tell Heath about the business card until we find out for sure that there’s a logical reason for it being in Granddad’s suit.”

  I sighed. “Okay, if I must.”

  She smiled. “Thanks, Carleigh. It means a lot to me.”

  She helped herself to a cup of coffee and said over her shoulder, “I’ll give him a call sometime today. I’ve got a lot of work to do this morning.” She took her coffee and went upstairs. I was glad to see that she was staying busy.

  After Evie left I took a break from wallpapering in the dining room to begin work on the second half of the drawing room floor. Once again, the job was hot and dirty and time-consuming, but the results were magnificent. After an entire day of hard work, I was able to sit back on my heels and bask in the floor’s shine. I strung tape across the drawing room door so nobody would walk in there, then ran upstairs for a shower before dinner.

  When I had showered and changed, I went downstairs to find Evie and Harlan at the dining room table. Evie told me that Ruby and Heath would both be joining us, but that Graydon and Vivian had gone out to dinner with a group of friends.

  When the five of us were seated around the table, talk centered upon the weather and how happy Lucy would be to see us at the end of her week with Brad. Ruby described a dessert she wanted to try making, which was great because she hadn’t baked anything sweet since Cora-Camille had passed away. Besides being happy for her and pleased that she was getting back into her old hobby, I was thrilled that we would be having dessert again!

  After dinner, Ruby went upstairs and Heath disappeared to the carriage house, waving to me as he walked out the door. I watched his long back retreating, thinking I really like him, then joined Evie and Harlan in the kitchen.

  Once we were seated in the chairs flanking the long table, Evie cleared her throat.

  “Um, Harlan, I’m glad you came over for dinner tonight because I wanted to ask you about something.”

  He smiled at her. “What is it?”

  She intertwined her fingers several times and cleared her throat again before speaking. It seemed strange to see Evie act nervously.

  “It’s just that I found a business card with your phone number on it.”

  “Okay. So what?” Harlan asked.

  “It was in one of Granddad’s suits.”

  He shifted in his chair. “How did you find it?”

  “Carleigh and I were going through the things in Gran’s closet last night and there were lots of clothes that belonged to Granddad in there. I reached into one of the pockets to make sure there was nothing in it and I found the card.”

  He nodded slowly, turning a shade paler and saying nothing.

  “Harlan? Say something. I don’t understand how that card got in there if you didn’t have that phone number until after Granddad died.”

  Harlan sat forward in his chair, his elbows on the table, his head resting in his hands. He looked up at Evie. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen,” he whispered.

  “What are you talking about?” Evie had an uneasy edge to her voice.

  “I wore that suit the night Gran died. I snuck into her bedroom wearing it.”

  “Why?” asked Evie shrilly.

  “I wanted her to think I was Granddad. I wanted to tell her that I—Granddad—still loved her and I was waiting for her on the other side.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I happened to have one of those cards in my hand and I shoved it in the pocket. I forgot about it. The thing is, my idea backfired. I think I scared her. I didn’t mean to . . . I only wanted to comfort her.”

  “You think you scared her?” Evie asked incredulously. “You think you scared her? Her heart gave out! She’s dead now!”

  “Evie, please don’t say it like that.”

  “Why not? That’s what happened! She was literally scared to death!”

  “But you make it sound like it was my fault.”

  “It was your fault!” Evie was yelling now.

  “Please Evie, be quiet! Don’t be so upset. Please don’t tell anyone what I did. I never meant to scare her!”

  “What is PM Investments? That’s not the name of your firm.”

  “It stands for Peppernell Manor Investments. It’s the company I set up to help get the funding to restore this house,” he said quietly.

  “Just go home,” she stated.

  “Let me—”

  “No. Just go.”

  Harlan stood up slowly and walked over to Evie’s chair. She didn’t look at him. He placed his hand on her shoulder; she brushed it away. He looked at me sadly, as if in a silent plea for understanding. I didn’t know what to do.

  After he left, Evie sat in silence for several minutes, blinking back tears. I said nothing, just waiting for her to talk.

  “My brother killed my grandmother,” she said dully. Then, with an uncharacteristic vehemence, “I hate him! How could he do this?”

  I didn’t know what to say. She wiped her eyes.

  “What do you think I should do?” she asked beseechingly.

  “About what?”

  “Should I tell anyone what he said, or should we keep it between us?”

  “I can’t really help you with that. I think you need to make that decision yourself.”

  “What would you do?”

  “I honestly don’t know. If you tell people what you know, Harlan will be devastated, and so will everyone else. If you keep it a secret, it may eat you alive. Plus you and Harlan will have to pretend this conversation never took place. It’s a lose-lose.”

  Evie buried her head in her hands, just like Harlan had done just a few minutes before. Her voice was husky when she spoke. “I wish I had never seen that business card.”

  She looked at me with reddened eyes and then spoke tentatively. “Carleigh, do you think he’s telling the truth?”

  That was the question I hoped she wouldn’t ask. “It’s a strange story, no doubt, but there’s nothing to suggest that he’s lying.”

  “But why would he have the card with him when he went in to talk to her?”

  “Maybe he just had it in his hand absentmindedly. It’s entirely possible that he really did put that card in the pocket innocently and then forgot about it.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Evie, I’m sorry, but I really need to call Lucy. She waits for my call each night, and it’s almost her bedtime. I can come back in to talk some more after I’m off the phone.”

  She shook her head, sniffling. “No, that’s okay. I’m going to bed. I think that before I make any decision about Harlan, I’ll just sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning.”

  I hugged her and left. It was a welcome change to hear Lucy’s high-pitched voice on the phone, explaining all she and Brad had done that afternoon and evening. Another trip to the park, chicken fingers and mashed potatoes at a restaurant for dinner, a walk, and a game. It sounded like she was enjoying her time with Brad, which made me happy—and jealous, if I was being honest with myself. Luckily, she only had a couple more days and I would get her back at Peppernell Manor.

  It was a quiet evening. I read a book and fell asleep early. The next morning I got back to work on the dining room wallpaper. The job was progressing well and I spent most of the day on it. Then I moved all the furniture back to where it belonged in the drawing room and took the “after” pictures for the portfolio I made for all my clients. It was exciting for them and for
me to see the before and after shots of the rooms I restored.

  That evening as the dusk gathered I went for a walk by myself over to the slave cabins. I wandered slowly among them, poking my head in each doorway to gaze at the places where people lived so long ago in poverty and unhappiness. In the semidarkness I was surprised to find Phyllis sitting in the doorway of the last cabin. She waved a hand to indicate that I should sit down next to her. We sat together in silence for several moments until Phyllis said, “Why did you come out here tonight?”

  “I was out for a walk and I wanted to see the cabins again.”

  “Why?”

  I didn’t really have an answer for that, but I tried to put some of my thoughts into words. “I feel almost guilty looking in the cabins, like I’m invading someone’s privacy. But I’m fascinated by them. I love learning about history, and these cabins are a place where history happened to everyday people. They probably didn’t even know it. They were just living here, trying to survive the conditions and the violence and the exhaustion and the sadness. I just try to imagine it.”

  “Sarah was here before you got here.”

  “What did she have to say?”

  “She hates this place. It holds very few good memories for her. And for my ancestors. My family. They didn’t care about making history. They cared about surviving to raise their babies and live until the next day. They cared about having no place to go when they were finally freed.”

  “But you told me she has some good memories, too.”

  “She does,” Phyllis acknowledged. “But you can’t really compare the few good ones against all the bad ones.”

  “I know Sarah doesn’t approve, but I’d love to talk to Graydon about restoring these old cabins to the way they used to be.”

  “Sarah and I both think that’s a bad idea. Why show people the way the slaves used to live? What good would that do?”

  “People would be able to see up close how terrible the living conditions were for the slaves who lived and worked on the plantations. We could even make it interactive to make the experience more real for visitors. It could be very powerful for people, especially children, to learn about slavery that way.”

  Phyllis shook her head. “I’ve told you. Sarah would not appreciate a bunch of people—tourists—coming through here poking their noses where they’re not welcome. I don’t care what they would learn.” She got up and walked away toward her apartment.

  I wasn’t getting anywhere with Phyllis. She was dead-set against the restoration of the slave cabins, especially since Sarah apparently refused to give her blessing to the idea. I decided to take up the subject with Graydon. I returned to the house slowly, lost in thought.

  The next morning Heath was at the house for breakfast by the time I went downstairs. He and Evie sat at the kitchen table with Graydon and Vivian.

  “So the house belongs to you and Aunt Ruby, Dad. Free and clear,” Heath was saying.

  “I guess Cora-Camille never had a chance to change her will to leave the management of Peppernell Manor to the state of South Carolina,” Vivian said. She smiled. “I’m glad. God rest her soul. Now the family doesn’t have to worry about the state kicking us out of our home.”

  “Mother, Gran wouldn’t have let the state do that,” Heath informed her. “She would have drawn up the will so that the state managed the property while the family still lived in it.”

  “Well, just the same, I’m glad she didn’t tinker with the natural laws of inheritance,” Vivian replied.

  “Mother, there’s no such thing as a natural law of inheritance.”

  “There is at Peppernell Manor.”

  Heath sighed and rolled his eyes.

  “My mother isn’t even cold yet. Can we talk about something else?” asked Graydon.

  This was the perfect opening for me. I cleared my throat. “Uh, Graydon, I have an idea that I wanted to discuss with you.”

  “Yes, Carleigh? What’s your idea?”

  “I was wondering how you’d feel about restoring the old slave cabins on the property.” I waited for an answer, not knowing what to expect.

  Graydon placed his hands together, matching up his fingers carefully. “Well, I hadn’t considered that. I guess I’d have to give it some thought.”

  Vivian spoke up. “Graydon, honey, I think Harlan wants to talk to you about those cabins. You’ll want to hear his idea, too.”

  I already knew what Harlan’s idea was—tearing down the slave cabins and building a gift shop. I had hoped that the talk of investors was over, but apparently Harlan hadn’t given up yet and now would make his appeals to his father rather than his grandmother. And Vivian appeared to be firmly on Harlan’s side.

  “Okay. I’ll wait to hear what Harlan has to say, then we’ll decide what to do,” Graydon answered. “Carleigh, when is that little girl of yours coming back here?”

  I grinned. “Tomorrow. I can’t wait to see her.”

  Vivian looked surprised. “Haven’t you seen her while your ex-husband has been visiting?”

  “I saw her the first couple of nights, but then he asked if he could have Lucy to himself for the rest of his time here. It was the only fair thing to do.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  I excused myself and walked into the kitchen. I was rinsing my breakfast dishes when Heath poked his head in.

  “I’m just leaving. Say, I’ve missed Lucy, too. Suppose the three of us take a horseback ride when she gets back here tomorrow?”

  I knew I looked as skeptical as I felt. I had told Evie that I wouldn’t allow Lucy on a horse.

  Heath must have guessed what I was thinking. “We wouldn’t put her on her own horse. You and Lucy can ride together if you’d like. Or I can even take her on my horse if that makes you more comfortable.”

  “I don’t know. Let me think about it. She would love it, but I’m just not sure I’m ready to have her ride a horse. It’s such a big animal and she’s so little.”

  “I understand completely. Just let me know.”

  I spent the rest of that long, hot, grimy day working. I finished the wallpaper late in the afternoon. Harlan joined us that evening for dinner. Ruby was there, too, as well as Graydon and Vivian, Evie, Heath, and me. I suspected that Vivian had called Harlan to advise him to get to Peppernell Manor to discuss his gift shop idea with his father before Graydon had a chance to think too much about a possible restoration.

  “Dad, here’s my idea for the slave cabins,” Harlan said excitedly after Phyllis had served the meal. “You know we’ve talked about getting investors involved in the manor so that it can become a destination for people visiting South Carolina.”

  Graydon nodded.

  “Well, my idea is to tear down the cabins and build a gift shop in their place. What do you think of that?”

  Silence. Ruby’s eyes bulged. Vivian watched her out of the corner of her eye. Before Graydon could answer, there was a tremendous crash from the entry hall.

  Evie was up in an instant. She rushed into the hallway and by the time I arrived, only a second or two later, she was on her knees, helping Phyllis to pick up the remains of a porcelain tray that she had evidently been carrying.

  “Phyllis, are you all right?” called Graydon, who had followed me from the kitchen.

  “I’m fine,” she said angrily. It was then I realized that Phyllis had heard Harlan’s words. She was obviously upset by the very idea. She didn’t say anything, though. She shooed us all back into the kitchen and she went to get a broom to clean up the mess.

  Vivian had not accompanied us to the entry hall. When Graydon sat down again next to her, she asked acidly, “Don’t tell me. She broke your mother’s best porcelain tray.” He nodded and she shook her head in disgust. “Honestly, Graydon, I don’t know how much longer we can keep her on here.”

  “Vivian, it was an accident. You know that. The tray is just a thing and can be replaced.”

  “Can we get back to my suggestion?” Harlan a
sked.

  “Oh. Yes. I don’t know, Harlan. Your grandmother was not keen on the idea of bringing investors into this project. I think she might object to the idea of a gift shop on the property.”

  “But the manor doesn’t belong to Gran anymore,” Harlan pointed out. “It’s yours now and you can do what you think is best.”

  I shot a look at Ruby, who remained silent though her lips were a thin white line.

  “I’m not sure what’s best,” Graydon answered.

  “Someday the family money is going to run out. What will happen to Peppernell Manor then?”

  “I don’t really worry about the family money running out. What I do worry about is making the wrong decisions when it comes to this house.”

  “I think I should set up a meeting for you and Mother to talk to the investor group I’ve put together,” Harlan advised. “I think they’ll set your mind at ease.”

  “I’ll think about it. Who’s ready for dessert?”

  Evie said very little throughout the meal, only looking up from her food now and then to stare at Harlan as if she didn’t recognize him. He seemed to have forgotten his admission about his involvement in Cora-Camille’s death and was forging ahead with his financial projects. Evie and I went into the drawing room later that evening.

  “What do you think of Harlan’s big idea?” she asked me as soon as I sat down.

  “I don’t know that it’s any of my business. But since you asked, from the perspective of a person who restores old buildings for a living and loves history, I disagree with him.”

  “He’s flat-out wrong, that’s what,” she said hotly, slapping her hand against her knee. “I just hope Daddy can see that.”

  “Don’t you think you can trust your dad to make the right decision when it comes to Peppernell Manor?”

  “Carleigh, you don’t know my father. He cares about writing books. Period. He’ll sit down in that room with all those investors and they’ll run circles around him. They’ll have him signing contracts before he knows what hit him.”

  “I don’t think you’re giving him very much credit,” I told her.

  Evie looked ashamed. “I know. I just can’t help it. He has to see that what Harlan is proposing is ludicrous. I need to talk to him.”