“Do you have access to the title deeds to this house you’re wanting to know more about?” asked Sylvia.
“Erm… no,” admitted Ruby. “We want to see what we can find out ourselves before bothering the client.”
“Client?” Sylvia looked impressed. “Private Investigators are you?”
“Something like that,” Ruby replied.
“Nice work if you can get it,” Sylvia said, before turning to walk away.
Not always, thought Ruby, staring at the retreating woman’s back for a few moments before attempting to focus.
Shortly after the house was erected, the Harringtons had moved in, John and Elizabeth. How many children they had between them remained a mystery but at least they had something to grasp onto now. They’d lived there for twenty-six years, then, in 1877, the Dochertys became tenants, George and Ann. Again they had been long-term, living there well into the new millennium. In 1910, it had been Frank and Evelyn Turnbull, in the 1920s, Albert and Rose Fowler and then in the late 1940s it had been sold to David and Betty Dolan. The next registered owner was Benjamin Hamilton.
Ruby tested the names on her tongue – John, George, Frank, Albert and David – which one was their man?
Ness picked up on her thoughts. “Maybe none of them. Those couples would have had children and it could be one of them, all grown-up of course. Something about the house and what happened in it, drawing them back.”
Ness was right but they could only work with what they had. Trying to flesh out details as far as possible the team endeavoured to track down the birth and death certificates of those they knew had lived there, but, of course, they didn’t include actual details of where a person had died, just the city, which wasn’t always Brighton.
As all four continued in their efforts – including scanning local papers as far back as possible for reportage of any other death at Gilmore Street apart from Benjamin, another arduous task – the hours raced by. The Keep closed at 4pm on Saturdays and it would soon be chucking out time.
At quarter to four, Ruby sat back in her chair and rubbed at her eyes. “It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack isn’t it?”
Ness agreed. “It is. And it’s personal information that’s the most useful to us. The kind you can’t get by wading through acres of dusty tomes.”
She was right. They still had so little to go on. Except…
“Hang on, Samantha was the one who brought the case to our attention, she said she felt like she was being watched, or rather glared at all the time.”
“Uh huh,” said Theo. “That’s right.”
“Well, later, she was attacked and prior to that her daughter was attacked during the flying mug incident. Jeff, however, and his son were initially undisturbed by him, they only became frightened when they actually saw phenomena occurring rather than felt it.” Ruby was warming to her theme. “And the way he treats us, the swearing, the blows, he’s a misogynist.”
“We already know that, Ruby. How’s this helping?”
“It helps us, Theo, by building up a profile. The spirit at Gilmore Street is a complete mystery to us, his name, his reason for being there, his less than friendly attitude, everything. I don’t get the feeling he’s someone from way back, his use of language is too modern for that.”
“People swore back then,” Ness insisted.
“Yeah, yeah, I know they did. It’s just a hunch I’ve got that’s all.” Mulling it over a bit more, she came to a decision. “There’s a way we can test it. Basically, the way it stands right now, every man who ever lived in that house is a suspect, with the possible exception of Ben. The kitchen is his preferred territory and he’s filled with hate. And what are we always saying is at the root of hatred? Fear. He’s frightened of a woman and what she did to him. So that means every female who ever lived there is a suspect too.”
“Every female?” Ness queried.
“Yeah. The spirit refuses to tell us his name, to tell us anything in fact, so we take another approach. We make a list of the women’s names, we go back to Gilmore Street, and we shout them out, every last one of them.”
“Until what?” Corinna asked.
“Until we get a reaction, that’s what,” Ruby replied, smiling.
Although the others were dubious, Ruby was pleased with her latest plan. Her good mood, however, didn’t last long. Leaving The Keep she arrived back at her flat to a double whammy: her mother calling on the mobile and Cash arriving on the doorstep, one sounding pissed off, the other looking it.
“What the hell’s this?” Cash said, brandishing a copy of the South Coast Times in front of her.
“Hang on, hang on,” she replied, inserting her key in the lock and shushing him at the same time. “Mum’s on the phone.”
It was all Cash could do to contain himself. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him look so furious.
“Have you seen the newspaper today?” her mother was saying.
“No,” and despite Cash waving it in front of her nose, she didn’t want to. Frustrating him further she kept her eyes averted. “Mum, it’s best not to look.”
“Ruby,” Jessica’s voice was much firmer now, “they are crucifying you. There’s a picture of you running down a hallway, as if you’re a criminal fleeing the scene. In the article it says you swore in front of their child, that you’d contacted them – the Grants – to say you’d found out that a woman had died a horrible death in their flat and that it needed to be cleansed. You basically barged your way in there, intent on creating work out of thin air.”
“What?” Ruby had wandered through to the kitchen and had to sit as her mother continued relating the lies that had been printed. She turned to Cash, who was hovering over her.
“Here, give me that,” she said, finally taking the paper from him. “Hang on, Mum, Cash is here, he’s got a copy of the paper too. I’m just going to read what it says. I’ll place you on loudspeaker, okay?”
Cash sat beside her as she did, pulling his chair close to offer what comfort he could. Which wasn’t a lot under the circumstances. “Oh, Christ,” she kept repeating. The pictures of herself were as bad as she feared they were going to be – she looked demented – but the lies the Grant family had told, the angle that they’d come up with to get themselves into the paper, the picture of them, Kaylee, her boyfriend or whoever he was and the toddler, standing huddled together looking nothing less than terrified by her intrusion – absolutely terrified – was too much. Despite not wanting to read further she couldn’t resist. ‘Come with me,’ that’s what Ruby said the ghost was saying, said she was standing in a corner with her eyes on my girl, but it’s not true. Ghosts aren’t real. We all know that. Even so, it freaked me out, I’m upset and because I am, so is the baby. We’re hardly getting any sleep. She keeps crying, sometimes all night. That’s what Ruby Davis has done to her, to us.’
She could feel her body shaking as her eyes began to blur, could feel the surge of emotion rise upwards, the tears that finally found release, could see all too clearly the ruin of everything she had worked hard for – so damned hard for – as it lay in tatters around her. All because of Gilmore Street.
As she continued to sob, Cash grabbed her mobile phone, said something to her mother about looking after her and that she wasn’t to worry, then he turned off the phone and pulled her into his arms. She resisted at first, she just wanted to drown in sorrow, on her own, pulling no one down with her. She wanted to sink to the depths, lie at the bottom of a cold, cold ocean and sleep forever. Not only distraught, she was exhausted. She had been before she’d even set foot in Gilmore Street – her energy finally deserting her.
“Ruby, come on, you’ll get through this, you know you will,” Cash was murmuring. She slumped against him, buried her head in his chest. Was he right? Would she get through it? She wouldn’t place a bet on it. “Ruby,” he continued, doing his best to reach her, to bring her back. “Let me help.”
But how could he help? What could he do?
/>
In the end what he did was perfect. He pulled her gently to her feet, led her into the bedroom and started kissing her, on her forehead, her cheeks, her neck, working his way downwards. As he did, he lifted up the light jumper she was wearing, pulled it over her head and discarded it. Sweeping her off her feet, he laid her gently on the bed, removing the last of her clothing and his too before lying beside her. The warmth of him, the caramel of his skin, the smell of him… she breathed it in, the wonderful familiarity. As though on a gentle decline, the despair she’d felt began to slide away. How could you feel despair when you had this in your life, a lover, a protector and an equal? Someone who, without a moment’s hesitation, would follow you down to the depths, who would stand beside you as you faced your greatest fear and who would bring you back. Because that’s what he was doing right now, not just touching her body, but touching her spirit too, re-energising her. He was the light to her dark, something she realised for the first time. As she started to respond, she decided she would lose herself, just for a while, focus only on him, the love he had for her and which she could at least return. As small cries began to escape her she marvelled at how easy it was to leave behind the latest catastrophe. Right here, right now, it didn’t seem to matter one bit. This was all that mattered: this flat, this room, this bed and the two people on it. Yes, she’d have to return to world at large – of course she would. But, as his cries joined hers, she could afford to stay lost for a little while longer.
Much later, giggling with Cash as they sat up in bed, actually giggling, Ruby felt a million miles removed from the earlier upset. Even so, she must phone her mum soon to make sure she wasn’t worrying, although with Cash, Jessica knew she’d be in good hands – which made her giggle again.
Cash wrestled her back down. “What’s so funny?” he asked, smothering her neck in kisses yet again.
“Nothing, just a thought I had about being in good hands,” she answered. “A bit of a Freudian thought considering what’s just happened.”
He pulled away, pretended at offence.
“Good hands. Good? That’s as bad as saying ‘nice’.” He held one hand up in front of her. “These are magnificent hands, Ruby, nothing less.”
“Then you’d better put them to use again, hadn’t you? And afterwards I’ll give you marks out of ten.”
“Marks out of ten? I’ll be off the scale.”
As he buried his head between her breasts she felt like what she was – not Spooky Ruby, nor a charlatan, a swindler and a fake – but a young woman in love, and falling deeper by the day.
“Bugger!” The phone was ringing. “I thought you’d turned my mobile off.”
“I did. That’s your house phone, Ruby.”
“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “of course. The ringtone’s virtually the same.”
“Ignore it. It’s not important.”
She fully intended to but then again it might be Samantha. Ruby had called her last night but there’d been no reply. Leaving a message, she hadn’t said exactly what they’d found out, therefore it wasn’t the spirit of Ben in her house, only that there’d been developments in the investigation and asking whether they could arrange another time to go back to Gilmore Street, sooner rather than later. If it was Samantha, she really needed to answer and get it sorted. The fight in her was making a comeback.
Pushing Cash off, she rolled onto her side and grabbed at the phone on a stand beside the bed. “I have to answer it, Cash, I won’t be a minute. Meanwhile, keep those hands warm for me. I’ll deduct points if you don’t.”
Cash merely ‘harrumphed’ in reply as he rolled onto his back.
“Hi, Samantha, thanks for calling me back. We need to—”
“Ruby, it’s Ellie. I hope you don’t mind me calling.”
“Oh, Ellie, hi, how are you?”
Beside her she heard Cash emit a deep sigh, he was clearly not impressed she’d answered the phone and now she was beginning to feel the same way.
Without waiting for her to answer, she added, “Look, Ellie, can this wait? Something’s erm… something’s come up here at the moment.”
Cash started laughing beside her, his irritation quashed and she gestured for him to be silent lest he give the game away.
“Oh, that’s fine, of course, no worries,” Ellie replied, sounding a little embarrassed. Had she heard Cash? Probably. He wasn’t being very discreet. “I just wanted to say I felt really sorry for you the other day, how the press are treating you, how no one’s come forward to stand up for what you do, so I thought I would. I spoke to a reporter this morning, Ruby, he’s really nice, not like the others, he seems genuine, as if he cared about the case. I told him how much you’re helping me, the progress we’re making. He was really interested, impressed you know? It’s going to be a good article I think.”
As Ellie’s words tumbled from her mouth, as Ruby’s brain made sense of them, she almost dropped the phone. Cash tensed now, his laughter on hold.
“You’ve done what?” Ruby asked, aghast.
“I’ve gone to the press, about the reincarnation case.” Ellie seemed to falter a bit, started stammering. “Th… that’s okay, isn’t it? I was only trying to help. I wanted to show that you take on unusual cases, cases you’re not that comfortable with. If someone’s in need, you don’t turn them away.”
Too incensed to speak, she could only manage, “Ellie… I’ve got to go,” before ending the call, discarding the phone and lying back down on the bed. Raising her hands, she kneaded both temples with her fingertips.
Rising on one elbow, Cash loomed over her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Ellie’s gone to the press, told them about her case, a case even I can’t get my head around, let alone the public.” Finally she stopped kneading and looked at him. “From the minute I met her I knew I shouldn’t get involved. There’s something not quite right about her, Cash. The memories she recalls and how confused they are. She’s trouble. For me she’s trouble. That’s my hunch and I was right. I was bloody right. She’s just buried me deeper in it.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“That’s not the point, Ness, she shouldn’t have gone to the press to talk about what we’ve been doing, not without asking me first!”
“She was acting from a place of good intent.”
“You keep saying that! But I don’t believe it. I think the girl’s deluded.”
Although Ruby was speaking to Ness on the phone, she could well imagine the older woman’s face hardening as she said that.
“Whatever we’re going through, we, as Psychic Surveys, must still act in a professional manner. Calling one of our clients deluded is hardly a good example of that.”
Ruby couldn’t believe it. “What? Are you calling me unprofessional, Ness?”
Behind her Cash put a hand on her arm in an attempt to try and calm her but she was beyond that.
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“You’ve got a cheek! Regarding Ellie’s case, you’ve been unprofessional all along. You forced me into it!”
“I didn’t. You’re your own person, Ruby, or at least you should try and be.”
“I… I—”
Cash took the phone from her.
“Ness, look, it might be best to speak to Ruby another time. She’s already had a bit of a shock today with the latest news report; it’s a bit of a crap one. Yeah, yeah, you’ve seen it? Kaylee Grant telling a pack of lies. She’s still reeling from it to be honest and then Ellie phones and drops the bomb. I’m sorry, you know how it is, it’ll all seem better in the morning.”
Cash ended the call and Ruby swiped at him, hard.
“Don’t apologise on my behalf! I’ve got nothing to apologise for.”
Throwing the phone on the bed, Cash grabbed Ruby by the shoulders. “For God’s sake, ease up, will you? The way you’re acting is making everything worse. Ness is your friend. She’s not the enemy. She didn’t know Ellie was going to talk to the press either.”
/> “But if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t still be involved with Ellie!”
“Either way, you are.”
She pushed him off. “No, I’m not, not anymore. Ellie is not Psychic Surveys’ responsibility.”
Searching for her mobile phone, she picked it up and started tapping.
“Don’t do anything you might regret, Ruby,” Cash warned.
“I won’t regret this, I’m handing the case over. Ness can carry on with it under her own steam. I’m done.”
Sending the message she felt at least marginally better. She had wanted to pull the plug on that one for a while and now she’d done it. Ness would just have to understand. As for Ellie, she’d never have to speak to her again.
“I know we haven’t got it in writing,” she muttered, still breathing fire, “but client confidentiality should work both ways.”
Still angry, perhaps because she was angry, she decided to phone Samantha. If she was feeling more charitable – which she wasn’t – she might be grateful to Ellie for forcing her hand. Anger was a lot more productive than despair. Before she did, she quickly briefed Cash about their latest findings, and included an apology for dismissing so readily his suggestion that it might be someone other than Ben there. Giving credit where credit was due again, he didn’t gloat, not even a hint of it but encouraged her to phone Samantha too. ‘Just don’t let her know how angry you are,’ he advised. His words and Ness’s burned in her mind. Whatever we’re going through, we, as Psychic Surveys, must still act in a professional manner and You’re your own person, Ruby, or at least you should try and be. Slowing her breathing before she started dialling, she even forced herself to smile.
“Samantha, I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Ruby, that’s the thing, I agree with you, but it’s not me who’s making the decision, it’s Jeff. He’s listened to me in the past, I have to listen to him now.”
44 Gilmore Street Page 20
