Mistress of Greyladies

by Anna Jacobs

  Corin stopped. ‘Shh. Just a minute. There’s someone standing near the crypt. When I give you the signal, call out to him.’ He moved to one side, out of the man’s line of sight, and crept closer and closer, glad of the soft green grass to muffle his footsteps. When he was within reach, he waved one hand.

  ‘Hoy, you!’ called the captain, obedient to his wishes.

  The man swung round, panic and guilt equally present on his face. Then he turned to flee and ran straight into Corin, who grabbed him.

  The man struggled but was smaller than Corin and much less fit. By the time the others joined them, he had stopped struggling.

  ‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’ Corin demanded. ‘Answer me.’

  ‘I come here with Frank. I ain’t done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Frank Hapton?’

  The man nodded.

  ‘What’s he doing here?’

  ‘Looking for that woman of his. They went into that old cellar.’

  ‘You take care of this one, Turner. I’ll go after Phoebe.’

  Before Corin could move away, their captive said, ‘It ain’t no use. Frank’s inside and he’s got the key. Locked the door after himself, he did, so she couldn’t get out.’

  Corin’s blood ran cold at the thought of Phoebe trapped in the crypt by that brutal chap. He ran across to the crypt entrance.

  But the grille was indeed locked and though he could hear someone speaking, the sound was muffled. Just then a light began to shine inside the crypt, visible from the entrance, growing brighter by the minute.

  ‘Phoebe!’ Corin yelled. ‘Phoebe, are you in there?’

  No one answered, but they heard a man yell, then scream as if terrified. It was unnerving to hear a man make a sound like that. What the hell was happening in there?

  Corin shook the grille hard, but it was firmly fixed. No one could have opened it by force, not without tools, and even then, it’d take time to cut through the thick iron bars. ‘How the hell can we get inside? Is there another key?’

  ‘I don’t know anything about keys to this place,’ Matron said. ‘It wasn’t our responsibility. The keys were all kept in the old house.’

  Their captive wriggled. ‘Um … Major.’

  ‘Shut up, you.’

  ‘But I can help you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I’m not involved. I haven’t broken in anywhere but—’

  ‘Get to the point.’

  ‘I could pick that lock easy. They’re simple, those old-fashioned locks. Then I could slip away and I’d never come back here again, I promise you.’

  ‘You can pick the lock and it’ll be taken into account when we find Phoebe,’ Corin said crisply. ‘That’s as far as I’m prepared to go.’

  For a minute their eyes locked, then the smaller man sighed. ‘All right, sir.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out some small pieces of metal.

  ‘Pick locks,’ Captain Turner said. ‘Fellow’s a thief.’

  ‘Never mind that. We have to get to Phoebe.’ Corin gave Sid a shove. ‘Do it.’

  The lock came open in a minute.

  ‘There you are. You can’t say I haven’t been helpful.’

  ‘Keep an eye on him.’ Corin was already on his way inside.

  The bright light had faded, but he had a flashlight with him that he’d snatched from the car. He shone it ahead, seeing no one at first. But when he rounded a corner, he saw a man lying on the ground – Frank.

  He knelt down beside him, but was shocked when he realised that the fellow was dead. There was no mark on him, but there was a look of pain on his face and one hand was lying on his chest, as if it had been pressed against it.

  ‘Matron!’ Corin yelled.

  She joined them and didn’t need telling to examine the body. ‘Looks like a heart attack, Major.’

  ‘He was rejected for the army because he had a weak heart.’ He looked round, surprised Phoebe hadn’t come out from wherever she was hiding. ‘Phoebe! Where are you? It’s safe to come out now.’

  But only silence met these words and when they searched the crypt, they could find no sign of her.

  In the darkness, Phoebe wasn’t sure where she was, but it must be a passage of some sort because she could touch rough stone walls on either side, quite close to her, but could find nothing ahead of her. She waited, hoping for some guidance from Anne Latimer, but nothing happened.

  Feeling in front of her with one foot, she made sure there was somewhere to tread before she moved forward. The ground beneath her feet seemed to be paved with flagstones. She continued to check ahead before each step, taking nothing for granted, and it saved her a fall when her extended foot found only empty space where she would have stepped next.

  She spread one hand on the wall to steady herself and continued to move her foot around, deciding it could be a flight of stairs. It seemed safer to sit down and when she did, she could feel another step below the top one, and another below that.

  It might have been cowardly, but she shuffled down those steps on her bottom, counting them. Five, there were, then level ground again.

  She shuffled along, feeling as if she’d been going for ages. But at least there were no footsteps or shouts behind her, and if there was a passage, built with such care, it must lead somewhere, surely?

  She was desperate to get out.

  She didn’t let herself panic, though the darkness seemed to be pressing in on her more heavily by the minute.

  What was happening back in the crypt? She wished she knew. But she wasn’t going back to face Frank.

  Where did this lead? She couldn’t tell the direction she was walking in, even.

  And then the passage ended in another wall, this time made of wood. She felt across it with her hands, looking for a latch. Surely it must be a door? The passage must lead somewhere.

  But she could find nothing, no way of getting out, and there was no sign of Anne Latimer, coming to guide her.

  Should she go back or should she stay here? It was the thought of fumbling her way through the darkness and finding Frank waiting for her that decided her to stay.

  She leant against the wall, fighting tears.

  Matron went out and found someone to fetch the doctor and bring a stretcher.

  ‘I think the doctor should see the body before we move it,’ she said when she got back.

  ‘You deal with that, please. Perhaps the rest of us should spread out and search every inch of this place again,’ Corin suggested.

  They did that, but still there was no sign of Phoebe.

  ‘You’re sure she went inside?’ he asked Sid.

  ‘Certain, sir. I saw her, then Frank followed her and locked the door.’

  ‘There has to be some other way out, then. But if so, it’s well hidden.’

  They searched every inch of the walls for something to press, or twist, something that might open a panel, but found nothing.

  Then they heard a voice outside calling for Major McMinty.

  He ran to the door, hoping someone had found Phoebe, but it was Joseph and Harriet.

  ‘They told us what had happened,’ Joseph said. ‘Have you found her?’

  ‘No. There’s no sign, and she definitely went inside the crypt, and didn’t come out again. Frank had locked the outer door and this fellow had to pick the lock to let us inside.’

  ‘I haven’t found any sign of a passage from here to the house, though there is rumoured to be one,’ Harriet said. ‘The early owners built all sorts of secret rooms and passages, to hide in during troubled times.’

  ‘If there is a passage,’ Joseph said thoughtfully, ‘it’ll probably come out in the cellars of the old house, don’t you think, McMinty?’

  ‘Could be. Let’s go and look. I’ll leave a couple of men here, in case she turns up. As for you—’ He turned to Sid, but in the confusion the fellow had managed to slip away. ‘Aw, let him go. He did help us, after all, and we can only charge him with trespassin
g, which is not worth the bother.’

  Harriet and Joseph led the way into the old house, leaving the boys with Cook. The two youngsters didn’t need persuading, because they were hungry and she was already pulling out some cake for them.

  ‘This way.’ Joseph drew back at the top of the cellar stairs. ‘Let me light the lamp. There. You go first, Harriet. I can’t get down such steep stairs as quickly as the rest of you. I think there are some wall lamps down there. You’d better light them too.’ He passed her a box of vestas.

  Harriet led Corin down the stairs and Matron followed. Joseph started to move slowly down behind them.

  ‘I’ll stay here, in case you need a liaison,’ the captain said. ‘I’m not good with steep stairs, either, with this damned tin leg, and I shan’t know where I’m going once I’m down there. You will.’

  The cellars were quite extensive, with stone pillars holding up the roof.

  ‘Where do we start?’ Corin wondered aloud.

  Harriet considered, then pointed. ‘The crypt lies in that direction. Maybe the cellar walls on that side have some sort of entrance to a passage. Or could it come up through the floor?’ She looked down doubtfully, because the whole cellar was paved with large stone slabs.

  ‘I’ll dig it all up if I have to,’ he said in a harsh voice.

  She smiled. ‘You love her.’

  ‘Of course I do. Only I haven’t said anything definite, haven’t made plans to marry or even get engaged. How could I have been such a fool?’ He began walking along the wall, tapping it, looking for some sign of an entrance.

  ‘You have a lot of responsibility for other things.’

  ‘Nothing that matters more than Phoebe. Nothing. It isn’t even the war. I’ve been letting my family house stand between us, even though it’s not much of an ancestral home. My grandparents bought it.’

  ‘But you love it.’

  He stopped, smiling ruefully. ‘I do.’

  ‘I haven’t had to give my whole life to Greyladies and maybe Phoebe won’t need to, either. Have you thought of that?’

  ‘I don’t care. I’m going to marry her as fast as we can get a special licence.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll ask her opinion first.’

  He smiled confidently. ‘She’ll say yes.’ He began tapping the wall again. ‘Does this sound hollow to you?’

  She picked up a jar of preserves from a nearby shelf and used it to tap on the wood. ‘Could be.’

  They searched again, and it did sound hollow, but they could find no sign of a way to open the panel.

  Suddenly they heard a sound, a faint tapping, coming from behind the wooden panel and a voice called out.

  ‘It’s her!’ Corin exclaimed and yelled, ‘We’re here, Phoebe! Open the door.’

  ‘I don’t know how.’

  Joseph had stayed behind them, watching, studying the wall. Something caught his eye, not next to the panel, where the others were looking, but further along one of the shelves. It was a small lump in the wood, showing now that Harriet had taken away the jar. Had she done that by chance or had she been guided to choose that particular jar?

  ‘Wait!’ he called. ‘What’s that?’

  Corin followed the direction of his pointing finger and moved sideways to touch the unevenness, then press it and twist it. But it didn’t move, or cause a door to open.

  ‘Stupid thing!’ In frustration, he hammered on the sturdy shelf below the small lump of wood.

  There was a grating sound and the whole shelf shook.

  ‘That’s it!’ Joseph called. ‘Stand back, let it move.’

  With agonising slowness the wall began to swing backwards. Dust swirled out of the opening.

  Then the door stopped moving, still only partly open. They could see Phoebe’s arm and part of her face.

  ‘Damnation!’ Corin threw himself against the door, which gave way suddenly, catapulting him through it.

  He grabbed Phoebe to stop her falling as he bumped into her. ‘Thank goodness! Oh, thank goodness!’ Pulling her towards him, he kissed her roughly and quickly, then simply held her close. ‘If anything had happened to you, I don’t know what I’d have done!’ he murmured against her hair.

  ‘It didn’t. Anne showed me how to get out of the crypt. Did you catch Frank or did he get away again?’

  ‘Ah. He’s dead, I’m afraid. They think it was a heart attack.’

  ‘Oh. I should be sorry, but I’m not. I’m relieved.’

  ‘Why should you be sorry?’

  ‘Well. Death is so final, isn’t it? Frank was … a strange man, and not a nice one. But he died young and poor Janet will be upset. She loved her son.’

  ‘Do you think you two could get out of the passage and let us have a look at it?’ Harriet teased from behind Corin.

  He smiled, feeling tension slip away. ‘Yes. Sorry. I was just so glad to see her.’

  While Joseph and Harriet examined the entrance to the passage and worked out how to close and open it, Corin took Phoebe to one side. ‘I couldn’t bear the thought of Frank touching you.’

  ‘He didn’t. I’m fine, really I am.’ She smiled at him and reached up to caress his cheek, saying more with that gesture and the love in her eyes than she could ever have put into words.

  ‘I should have spoken to you before I left, my darling, asked you to marry me. I realised it as I drove away, but it was too late to do anything then. I was planning to come back as soon as I could wangle a few hours off and propose to you. You will marry me, won’t you, Phoebe?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  He kissed her again and caught sight of Harriet and Joseph smiling fondly at them. He gave them a rueful smile. ‘Sorry. But I needed to propose to her.’

  ‘Not the most romantic of proposals,’ said Joseph with a grin. ‘But she doesn’t seem to mind, so I think it’ll do the trick.’

  ‘And you’ll both live here,’ Harriet said. ‘For a while, anyway.’

  ‘My whole life long if necessary. Wherever she is, I’ll be too.’

  Phoebe surprised herself by bursting into tears at those words. She wasn’t sure whether she was weeping for relief at being free of Frank, or out of joy at Corin’s proposal. Perhaps it was both.

  She didn’t weep for long and borrowed Corin’s handkerchief to wipe her eyes. ‘Sorry. It all caught up with me suddenly.’

  He hugged her close. ‘Cry as much as you like.’

  ‘No, don’t cry. I think this calls for a celebration,’ Joseph said. ‘There are a few bottles of wine down here. Let’s open one and drink to your health. We ought to do something to mark the occasion.’

  He limped across to the section of the cellar where some wine was stored and called out in triumph, ‘There’s some champagne!’

  ‘I’ve never had champagne,’ Phoebe said.

  ‘I have, but this will taste better than any other I’ve had,’ Corin said. ‘How quickly can we get married? Do you want a big, fussy wedding, or can we get a special licence? I’ll do whatever you wish, but I must admit, I want to make you my wife as quickly as possible.’

  ‘I’ve never been one for fuss. But I’d like Beaty, Harriet and Joseph to be there.’

  Harriet put an arm round them both. ‘You couldn’t keep us away.’

  When they went up to the big sitting room in the old house, Joseph got glasses from Cook and told her the happy news, which made her mop her eyes as she wished the happy couple well.

  Corin attended to the bottle, prising the cork out of it carefully, waiting for the glasses before he made the final push of the cork.

  The pale golden liquid foamed prettily as he poured it into the glasses, shining in a light that had begun to gleam above them. The light didn’t resolve itself into Anne Latimer’s figure, but it hovered there till Joseph had said, ‘Congratulations and we wish you a happy life together.’

  As they clinked glasses together and sipped, the light grew briefly brighter then faded.

  ‘I think she was giving u
s her blessing,’ Phoebe said softly.

  ‘Look at the time. Can you stay for a meal?’ Harriet asked Corin.

  He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘I’m afraid not. I was supposed to go straight back and I’ve stayed here for three hours. Phoebe darling, I have to leave now. Will you walk me to the car?’

  She took his hand. ‘One day we won’t always be leaving one another.’

  ‘One day we’ll live together, have children, I hope, and grow old together.’

  ‘Oh, yes.’

  When they got to the car, he pulled her close again for a final kiss and the driver carefully looked the other way.

  Corin sighed as he moved away from her. ‘I’ll get Beaty working on a wedding. It might not happen as quickly as I want, because I’ll need time off and there’s a lot happening where I’m working, so it’s not easy to get leave. Can we get married in London?’

  ‘Anywhere. I’ll come as soon as you send for me. I’m sure Matron will understand. And then I’ll return and we can meet whenever or wherever you can get away. I love you, Corin.’

  ‘I love you with all my heart, my dearest girl.’

  She watched him leave then went inside the house, smiling, to rejoin her friends. There was a little champagne left in her glass and she raised it to Harriet and Joseph. ‘To Greyladies!’

  Light shone around her for a minute, then faded.

  Joy was bubbling inside her as fizzy as the champagne had been. She didn’t know whether she’d live here for only a few years, like Harriet, or whether she’d be here for the rest of her life, but it wouldn’t matter where she was if Corin was with her.

  Like Harriet, like a dozen women before her, she loved the old house, felt as if she belonged to it, rather than the other way round.

  She smiled as she watched Joseph and Harriet holding hands without realising they were doing it. She hoped she’d love her husband as much as they loved one another. That thought made her raise her glass in a silent toast to the man she loved and drink the last mouthful of champagne.

  Epilogue