Jessica held her gaze.
“Ruby, there is more between heaven and earth than you can possibly know.”
“More good things,” Ruby insisted.
As though all fight had left her, Jessica slumped back down on her chair. Her face for a brief moment wizened, as though she’d lived a hundred lifetimes in the space of one.
“If only I had one ounce of your conviction,” her voice was broken again, sad.
Kneeling down beside her, Ruby took hold of her hands, they were chill to the touch but Ruby suspected that was from poor circulation, nothing more.
“But I’ve seen them, Mum,” Ruby continued to argue, but gently, “I’ve seen spirit after spirit return from beyond, to collect their loved ones. I’ve seen how magnificent they are.”
“And I’ve seen something different,” was Jessica’s bleak reply.
Ruby wondered if it was right to press her, to ask her to elaborate. Gran would say no, to leave well alone, but Gran wasn’t here. It was just the two of them, for the first time in so long.
“Mum,” she said eventually. “What have you seen? I want to know.”
Jessica looked up sharply and in her eyes Ruby could see a desperate need to share, to try and make sense of the horror she had experienced – real or imagined. Perhaps, in the end, even she didn’t know. Jessica tried to speak, attempted to form words, her hands balled into fists so tight her knuckles were white, but quickly she stopped; a violent shake of the head.
“No, Ruby, I can’t... I can’t contaminate you.”
Her voice cracking, she continued, “You don’t know how much I want you to be right, you and Mum, how much I long to believe you. If you are right, then I have created my own world, my own demons, and only I can destroy them. And I try, Ruby, really I do. I try.”
Tears streamed from Jessica’s eyes.
“Mum,” whispered Ruby. “It’s okay, I’m here.”
Still kneeling, Ruby wrapped her arms protectively around her distressed mother’s fragile frame, her heart breaking as she rocked her gently, their roles reversed.
After a while, the tears subsided.
Pulling up a chair so she could sit close beside her, Ruby said, “I know you’re worried about me and I’m touched that you are, but I’m strong, I can do this, I can help Cynthia.”
“I used to think I was strong once too...” Jessica reached out a hand to smooth Ruby’s hair. “I used to think I was invincible. But I quickly found out how weak I am.”
“No!” Ruby almost shouted. “You are not weak. I don’t know what happened to you, Mum, I hope someday you’ll tell me, but what I do know is this: you live with fear that’s very real to you, every single day you live with it, yet still you live, you battle on, you don’t give in, not entirely. Your life, it’s not how it was perhaps, but it is still life, a valid life, a life with love in it. Beneath your fear you’re as strong as Gran, as me, as all us Davis women.”
“But I’m scared, Ruby,” Jessica whispered. “Scared of dying, of what’s waiting for me.”
“Then you’ll understand how Cynthia feels and why I have to help her.”
Ruby did indeed see a flicker of understanding in her mother’s eyes, a flicker replaced almost at once by abject sadness as she asked, “But who will help me?”
“I will, Mum,” Ruby was resolute, “and Gran and Great Gran too, all us Davis women.”
A slight smile softened Jessica’s features, as though Ruby’s words were sinking in.
“Protect yourself, Ruby, stay strong. Whatever happens at Highdown Hall, stay strong.”
“I intend to,” Ruby replied, chasing away any fears her mother’s words may have stirred in her. It was true; she didn’t know what waited for Cynthia – and for her – in the shadows. And perhaps it would attack again, just as viciously as before. But surely going in with good intention, with love in her heart for all things, would protect her? Her beliefs defined her world and she would not let them waiver, could not afford to let them waiver, to let darkness get a foothold.
Hoping very much she would bring home only good news on Christmas Day, Ruby decided it was time to change the subject. All this talk of the world beyond, good, bad or otherwise, had tired her mother, she needed something to eat and then sleep, both of them bedding down in her room perhaps, snuggled together like they used to do when Ruby was young. It would be nice to do so again – comforting, and not just for her mother. In the morning, she would drive Jessica home, postponing the meeting with Theo and the team til later in the day. They wouldn’t mind, not at all, not once she’d explained.
Less than two hours later, Ruby and Jessica were cosy in bed, relishing the warmth and closeness of each other. Just before sleep claimed them, Jessica pointed at Jed, who had also made himself comfortable on top of the covers.
“Take him with you,” she said, “promise me you will.”
“I promise,” said Ruby, yawning widely.
“And Cash too. It’s no coincidence they’ve found you.”
Although momentarily startled by her words, the relief of temporary oblivion was too strong to resist. Yes, you’re right, she thought, drifting off, they’re both a part of me now.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ruby and Jessica slept surprisingly well, waking much later than intended. Noticing it was nearly nine o’clock, Ruby jumped out of bed and made a beeline for the phone.
“Theo, I’ve overslept, my mum’s here, I have to take her back home to Hastings. I’m going to be late for our meeting.”
“No worries,” replied Theo, somewhat amused, Ruby could tell, at the babble of words being thrown at her. “We’ll meet later, that’s all. Will you be back by noon?”
Ruby mentally calculated the time it would take to drive to Hastings. “Make it just after one to be on the safe side.”
“Fine with me, I’ll let the others know.”
“And I’ll text Cash. Thanks, Theo, see you then.”
Cash responded almost immediately saying that delaying their meeting was fine too and not to worry about Daisy, she had settled in well at his mum’s, who loved having a dog around again.
Relieved, Ruby walked back to the bedroom. Jessica was up, dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, Jed once again making a fuss of her.
“Hi, Mum,” said Ruby, brightly.
“Hello, darling.” Jessica replied, but there was an absent-minded tone to her voice. “I think I’d like to go home now.”
“What about a cup of tea first? I’ll put the kettle on.”
“No,” Jessica was emphatic. Tightly, she added, “Thank you though.”
Ruby smiled gently at her.
“No worries, Mum. I’ll be ready in ten.”
It was actually fifteen minutes later that Ruby was showered, dressed and ready to go. Jessica, meanwhile, had put her coat on and was waiting in the hallway.
The drive to Hastings was silent. Jessica sat staring passively at the passing countryside, which looked nothing less than bleak. Ruby knew she’d lost her again, but was surprised to note that she didn’t feel the usual sadness about it. Instead she was grateful they had found each other, had actually seen each other, for the first time in years. Although it had been fleeting, it was something. Leaving her mother to her own thoughts, Ruby’s mind wandered too. It was hard to believe tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Ruby was well aware Christmas happened at the same time every year, but even so, it always took her by surprise. She hadn’t even begun to think about it, hadn’t purchased a single present. Idly, she wondered if there’d be time later on, after the meeting, to dash around the shops that were open in Lewes, purchase some gifts from Wickle perhaps: a fragrant candle for Jessica, with cleansing eucalyptus, ideal for guarding against bad dreams. And maybe one of their lovely woollen blankets for Gran – perfect for wrapping round her for a doze in front of the fire. Should she get Cash a present too? Would it seem a bit forward? Presumptuous even? And then she checked herself. They’d very nearly fallen into
bed together last night; it was okay to be a little presumptuous. At the very least he was a friend, and friends tended to buy each other gifts; it wouldn’t look odd at all. Having convinced herself, she resolved to pop into Sussex Stationers to buy him a book, another by Dallas Hudgens if she could find one, or something similar. If she couldn’t find something suitable, she’d go to Union Record Store in Lansdowne Place, their music selection, particularly the country stuff that Cash seemed to like, was impressive.
As Ruby entered Hastings, the sparse Sunday traffic ensured their swift passage through the town. Driving along the seafront, she passed the ruined pier to her right (she was still upset by its wanton destruction by arsonists several years back). To her left was a series of houses, flats and B&Bs, some well maintained, others had obviously fallen on hard times – very hard times by the look of some of them. The new town, set further back, could just be glimpsed, its high street shops no doubt packed already. Shame she couldn’t join the shoppers in a last minute festive fever but there was no chance this morning. Rounding the bend at Rock a Nore, she caught a glimpse of the black fishing huts, unique to Hastings and iconic because of it. They stood like sentinels, tall and proud, overlooking fishing boats and huts where the day’s catch was sold. Reaching the Old Town, she parked the car and walked with Jessica to their family home.
Gran must have been hovering behind the door because no sooner had Ruby raised her hand to ring the bell, it flung open and Sarah rushed straight to Jessica.
“Are you alright, dear?” she fussed. “Come inside, let’s get some tea.”
Tea – that panacea for all ills as her mother had wearily called it.
Following the two older women inside, Ruby could tell Gran had been busy baking, the air redolent with cinnamon, a smell that characterised Christmas and immediately ignited a spark of childish excitement within her. Gran always made such an effort at this time of year, putting up decorations, not garish, but sophisticated, silver and gold the predominant colours. Christmas cards from friends the world over were proudly displayed on every mantel and carefully wrapped presents waited patiently and tantalisingly under the tree.
Whilst Gran got Jessica settled, seating her in front of a roaring log fire with a cup of tea and some home-made shortbread, Ruby wandered into the kitchen. Spying the polka dot tin Gran kept her biscuits in, again home-made, she helped herself, hoping she could take a few home too. Cash would love them.
“Thank God she’s alright,” said Sarah, coming up behind her. “I was so worried.”
“But she left you a note didn’t she? Explaining.”
“Yes, she did,” said Sarah, still clearly agitated. “But I... I don’t know, it’s been such a long time since she’s been out on her own, that far I mean. Not since the... the...”
“The breakdown.”
“Yes,” Sarah sighed.
“What prompted her to undertake such a journey?” she continued.
“She was worried about me,” Ruby made sure she closed the kitchen door firmly this time so they couldn’t be overheard. “She heard me telling you about Highdown Hall, about how Cynthia attacked Corinna; she thinks I’m in danger too.”
“Do you think you’re in danger?” Sarah asked, surprising her.
Gran didn’t know that she’d been attacked too. Should she tell her?
Ruby hesitated. “I... I don’t think so, no.”
Motioning for her to sit down, Sarah looked into Ruby’s eyes. “Remember what I’ve taught you, Ruby. Even the blackest heart has cracks in it. That’s how the light gets in.”
“I know,” Ruby nodded her head in fervent agreement, “but Mum’s convinced otherwise. She believes some souls are beyond help. That hell and damnation do exist.”
“Ruby...” Sarah’s voice was low but firm. “Your mother made mistakes when she was younger; got in with a crowd of people who weren’t good for her. She... how can I put it, dabbled with drugs, drank too much, she... she flaunted her gift, used it entirely in the wrong way, to impress the living rather than help the departed. When you behave like that, it is possible to encounter negative influences.”
“What influences?” Ruby asked, sitting to attention.
Sarah thought for a few moments.
“Human beings are capable of great good; they are also capable of bad thoughts and deeds. We know deeds are physical but thoughts are energy too. These thoughts, they have no place in the light, but as a form of energy they must go somewhere, and they do. Into a band that surrounds our world, pulled there as though magnetically – a sort of dumping ground if you like. In this band, thought forms can sometimes manifest. I think your mother inadvertently tuned into this band, that she did indeed see something dreadful. In reality, such manifestations are weak; they cannot exist outside of darkness. They are part of a much lower frequency, a frequency we leave behind when we leave this world. Their sole purpose is to terrify, to frighten, but they can only do that if you let them.”
Ruby tried to take in all her grandmother was telling her. Mum had dabbled with drugs? There was a dumping ground for less than pleasant thought forms? That Jessica had looked into it, had glimpsed something terrible, a thought form made manifest?
Could it be that what waited for Cynthia in the shadows wasn’t real but rather some force that Cynthia herself had created? Rawlings’ Devil? But no, it couldn’t be. It had felt very real when it had attacked her; it had felt human. Levine, perhaps? Or even Mason? But why?
“Ruby, tell me what you’re thinking.”
Ruby duly complied, imparting all she had learnt from Esme Harris.
“If it is this film director Levine, openly identifying him should cause a reaction. It may also prompt Cynthia to remember what happened the night she passed.”
“But what if it isn’t him, Gran? What if it is...?”
“A demon?” Sarah laughed. “Darling, no demon could touch you. They wouldn’t dare. It sounds like it is Levine – their mutual deaths are too much of a coincidence to ignore. If it is him, remember, he’s hiding because he’s frightened, not for any other reason. So many are afraid that only retribution awaits them – it’s our job to help them understand it doesn’t. Keep the faith, Ruby. Chase away any lingering fears. Love will never let you down.”
Ruby swallowed hard.
“Thanks, Gran,” she said at last, “I needed to hear that,” and then on a laugh, “again.”
“Always happy to help. Now come on, let’s check on your mum.”
Jessica had fallen into a deep sleep. Her face, in repose at least, peaceful.
Staring at her, Ruby caught sight of the clock on the mantelpiece.
“Crikey, is that the time already? I’ve got about an hour to get back to the office. Listen, Gran, I have to go, I’ll see you on Christmas Day.”
“You will indeed, Ruby, and perhaps skip breakfast? I’ve made a mountain of food here.”
“I will,” laughed Ruby, determination spurring her forwards.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Sorry I’m late, guys,” said Ruby, hurrying along the street towards the familiar team waiting patiently outside the entrance to her office.
“No worries,” said Corinna, ever cheerful. “We’ve only just got here ourselves.”
Retrieving her key from her bag, she chanced a glance at Cash. He was looking straight at her, a slight naughtiness to his grin she thought.
Feeling her face burn, she opened the door and stood aside. In single file they walked past her up the stairs. Ruby followed, having trouble taking her eyes of a certain part of Cash’s anatomy as he ascended before her.
“Bloody hell, I wish they’d install heating in here,” she complained on entering her office.
After briefly rubbing her hands together, she fired up the Calor Gas heater, its orange flame attracting Jed to his usual spot beside it.
“Hello, boy,” she whispered fondly.
The rest of the team settled themselves around the meeting desk, Corinna taking
their requests for hot drinks this time. As she busied herself by the kettle they talked briefly about the weather, how cold it was, how miserable, everybody lamenting the lack of blue skies. Taking the mug Corinna handed to her, Ruby relished its warmth, encircling her hands around it. Once everyone else had theirs she kick-started the meeting.
“First off, thanks for coming in on a Sunday, guys.”
“Needs must,” Ness pointed out.
“You’re not wrong there,” Ruby conceded. “Okay, what have we found?”
Four pairs of eyes, five if you included Jed’s, looked hopefully at Theo.
“Well, this David Levine, there’s really not a lot on him.”
“So he wasn’t another movie star?” enquired Ness.
“On the Z-list if he was,” Corinna butted in. “I’ve never heard of him.”
“No,” said Theo, shaking her head. “He wasn’t an actor, he was a director. Not up with the big boys of his day, the projects he was involved in were far more modest. And I say director, but really he was more of an assistant director. The highlight of his career seems to have been working on a film called Later in the Day, in which Cynthia starred.”
“Before or after The Phoenix?” asked Ruby.
“It was after The Phoenix, between Intruders and The Elitists. It was another Rank Organisation production I think, nothing to do with Hollywood. Levine is British.”
“What I find strange,” Ruby interjected, “is that all the time I was researching Cynthia Hart, I found no mention of a second death at Highdown Hall.”
“There is some mention,” countered Theo. “I found a short newspaper article concerning his death yesterday. His car veered off the road not far from the house, apparently the night of the party. The article mentioned the party, and that it was held to celebrate Cynthia’s birthday and forthcoming move to America, and said that it wasn’t long after leaving her house that he’d crashed. So their names were linked, but only briefly and in a piece that barely merited more than a few lines. Reports concerning Cynthia’s death, as we know, were abundant at the time, but they focused on her and her alone.”
The Haunting of Highdown Hall Page 22
