The Lavender Lady

by Faith Martin

  ‘Hmm. As Mr Bagshott quickly found out.’

  ‘I see,’ Effie said, her mind still on the rogue bottle of pills. It wasn’t until the silence had lengthened significantly and she noticed that Annie was watching her with a dry kind of patience that she actually took in what the daily woman had just said.

  ‘You mean she actually threatened him?’ Effie squeaked.

  ‘Oh, now, I couldn’t really say that,’ Annie temporised judiciously. ‘I was in the kitchen, after all, putting a casserole in the oven for her evening meal, so I couldn’t make out what was being said. I always left about four o’clock in the afternoon, leaving something in the oven for her, like. And they were in the drawing room. But once or twice I could definitely hear raised voices.’

  Annie looked vaguely discomfited, and it didn’t take Effie long to realize why. The daily woman didn’t want to admit to being deliberately nosy.

  ‘Poor you. That must have given you something of a real dilemma,’ Effie sympathized cannily. ‘On the one hand, it was none of your business, but on the other, Mrs Watkins was an old lady, and she might have been in need of your help. Obviously, you had to do something.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Annie nodded with satisfaction. ‘So from time to time, I sort of wandered up and down the corridor, outside, like. So that I’d hear her if she called out for me.’ Annie paused, and when Effie nodded encouragingly, went on. ‘Yes. So, anyway. As it happens, it was Mrs Watkins who was the one doing the tongue-lashing. Telling him off good and proper she was. At one point I heard her say clearly that she knew that her granddaughter’s husband had been paying him handsomely, and that if he didn’t vote against something or other, then she was going to see to it that Mr Bagshott got kicked off the council.’

  ‘Blimey,’ Effie gulped.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Annie nodded, eyes bright with remembered excitement. ‘He left pretty quick after that I can tell you, like a dog with his tail between his legs.’

  ‘I bet. And Mrs Watkins?’

  ‘Oh she was pleased as punch, she was,’ Annie said with a smile of her own. ‘You could tell she was feeling quite smug, in fact. She kept muttering to herself all the rest of that afternoon that she’d fixed young Clive’s hash. She’d really taken against young Ros’s husband the last couple of years or so.’

  ‘Yes, I’d heard that,’ Effie said. And then a thought rather belatedly occurred to her. Annie was being really very candid, wasn’t she? Saying all this to a virtual stranger. For a second, Effie looked at the older woman cautiously. ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking. But . . . why exactly are you telling me all this?’

  Annie Darville looked away briefly, her eyelids flickering slightly. ‘Oh, no particular reason,’ she said casually. And it was clear to Effie that now she was not being quite so candid. ‘I just thought that you might be interested, that’s all.’ Annie glanced down casually at her hands. ‘That her family might want to know about those final few weeks of hers.’

  Effie felt a slight coldness start to churn in her stomach. Was she imagining it, or was Annie Darville trying to intimate something, without coming right out and saying it? Or was she just projecting her own doubts and suspicions onto her?

  ‘I’m not quite sure what you mean by that,’ Effie said carefully. If the daily was trying to tell her something, she didn’t want to scare her off. On the other hand, before she committed herself, she needed a little more reassurance that she wasn’t reading too much into all this.

  Annie’s eyes went to Effie’s face, searched it for a few seconds, then moved casually away again to a spot on the wall just a little to the right of Effie’s head.

  She sighed slightly, and began to look distinctly pensive. At last, she blurted out, ‘It’s just that there were such a lot of things bothering her in the days before she went. So when I heard that things had been happening up at the house, and that Izzie had called in some paranormal people to see what was what . . . well, I just thought you’d be interested in knowing about it. I mean, in case there’s anything to all this haunting business. That’s all.’

  ‘Do you believe in ghosts, Annie?’ Effie asked gently.

  Annie looked surprised. ‘Me? Never really thought about it.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Effie said. Then, even more carefully added, ‘But if you think it’s possible that Mrs Watkins’s spirit is, well, proving to be rather restless . . . Forgive me if I’ve got this wrong. But you seem to have it in mind that there might be a reason for it.’

  For a moment, Annie Darville continued to contemplate the carpet at her feet, then she finally looked up. Perhaps she sensed that Effie wasn’t going to be judgemental. Or perhaps she simply needed to get off her chest something that had been plaguing her for weeks. Either way, Effie watched as she stiffened her shoulders, and when the daily woman spoke next, Effie wasn’t really surprised that Annie did so with some conviction.

  ‘You know, that old lady might have had a heart condition, but I never heard anybody say that it was anything really serious. I certainly never got the impression from her doctor that it was, and you can usually tell, can’t you? What’s more, I saw Mrs Watkins every day. And apart from getting a little breathless when she walked too far, I’d have said she was fit as a fiddle for her age.’

  Effie caught her breath. Was Annie really telling her what she thought she was telling her?

  ‘So you were surprised when she died so . . . suddenly?’ Effie asked, almost whispering now.

  ‘Surprised?’ Annie Darville said quietly but firmly. ‘I was downright flabbergasted.’

  Effie nodded slowly. Oh well. It was now or never. And now it was Effie’s turn to stare at a point just beyond the daily’s head.

  ‘Izzie tells me that her mother used to take St John’s wort to help her sleep?’ she began quietly.

  ‘That’s right. Mrs Watkins recommended it to me too. Since my kids left, I get down sometimes. Apparently it’s good for that sort of thing too,’ Annie confirmed. She was clearly a little surprised by the abrupt change of topic, but seemed willing enough to go where Effie led.

  ‘And Izzie tells me that . . . afterwards . . . she let you have her mother’s supply.’

  ‘Yes, it was nearly full, see,’ Annie said. ‘She’d only just opened a new bottle the week before and Jasmine puts a hundred in every bottle. It was nice of Izzie to let me have them. She said it was a shame to waste them.’

  Effie slowly let her eyes drift across and meet Annie’s gaze.

  ‘And have you taken any of them yourself yet?’ she asked, aware that her heart was thumping sickeningly in her chest now.

  ‘No, I’m still using my own,’ Annie said. ‘I’ve still got a couple of weeks’ worth left, see, so . . . ah.’ She broke off, her large brown eyes blinking rapidly. ‘Oh my,’ she added. Then again, going slightly pale now. ‘Oh my.’

  For a moment, the two women regarded each other in mutually appalled silence. Then Effie said diffidently, ‘Annie, would you mind if I . . . er . . . borrowed Claudia’s bottle of pills for a bit?’

  Annie continued to stare at her blindly for a few seconds, then without another word, got up and a minute or so later returned just as silently, carrying a bottle. It had Jasmine Carteret’s instantly recognizable label fixed firmly in the centre.

  ‘Here, take it,’ Annie said tonelessly. ‘And don’t bother to bring it back,’ she added bitterly, with a brief shudder.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  One of the good things about living near Oxford, Effie mused, was that there was no shortage of labs capable of doing a full and complicated analysis of almost any material known to man.

  And so, after a quick bit of research, Effie detoured to one such establishment and dropped off six of the yellow jelly-like pills Annie had just given her. The person she’d spoken to there had told her that it would be easier (and cheaper) if she had some idea of what it was they were supposed to be looking for, so Effie had simply asked them to be on the lookout for any digitalis-b
ased compounds. Which, by her reckoning, most definitely should not have been found in St John’s wort pills.

  Then, feeling both ridiculous but nevertheless relieved, Effie went home and set to work in her garden with a clear conscience. With a bit of luck, she might even be able to sleep well for once that night.

  Of course, she was still almost one hundred per cent sure that the lab results would come back negative, and that all the pills would contain exactly what they were supposed to contain. And then, at last, she could put this moment of madness behind her once and for all.

  But as she weeded and bedded out, Effie was also aware that tomorrow night there was another vigil scheduled at Claudia’s house. And, for the first time since they’d found out that she was a widow, Effie was going to have to face her friends again. Which left her feeling a little nervous and uneasy. But not nearly as much as she might once have expected. What’s more, she was actually looking forward to seeing them all again.

  That night, she slept well.

  * * *

  Tonight Lonny had had to cry off, since one of his children was unwell, and his wife had something of a phobia about meningitis, which meant that any rise in temperature or flu-like symptoms in one of their brood set her off panicking.

  ‘OK, we’re all set,’ Corwin said, as he and the others trooped in. He gratefully accepted a mug of tea from Isabel and glanced around. ‘I was going to ask Lonny to do a couple of outside patrols tonight. Mickey, you want to volunteer?’

  ‘Give me a break, chief, I did it last time.’

  ‘In other words, he thinks it might rain,’ Jean said with a smile.

  ‘I don’t mind doing it,’ Effie said at once.

  It was clear that the outside patrols were regarded as a bit of a chore, and she was more than happy to do her fair share of the unpopular jobs. Being Duncan’s eyes and ears was no excuse for her to be given more privileges than the others, after all. What’s more, if she was going to be a productive member of the team, she needed to start pulling her weight, and experiencing everything about a vigil, both good and bad, would be essential training for her.

  And a few turns around the garden at night would be more of a pleasure for her than a chore, anyway. She was sure she’d spotted some night-scented stock growing near the kitchen wall garden, and if the odd cutting or two just happened to find its way into a plastic bag, and thence into her pocket, who would notice?

  Like all keen gardeners, Effie wasn’t above a bit of botanical larceny.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Corwin asked, looking at her closely. ‘It’s going to get very dark tonight — there’s not that much of a moon — and it can feel rather lonely and isolated when you’re outside on your own.’

  ‘Yeah, no need to run before you can walk, Eff,’ Malc said. ‘You don’t have anything to prove to us.’

  Jean and Gisela made the same sort of noises, and Effie sighed elaborately.

  ‘Come on, it’s not as if we’re in Outer Mongolia,’ she laughed. ‘And I’ll have my mobile phone on me. If anything worries me, I’ll just call for the cavalry.’

  ‘Be sure that you do then,’ Corwin said crisply. ‘And make sure that you take a digital recorder with you again and leave it running. It’ll be too dark and inconvenient to take written notes. And be sure to do a commentary on anything that you see or hear that strikes you as at all interesting.’

  ‘Yes, chief,’ Effie said smartly, giving him a brisk salute.

  Mickey grinned and gave her the thumbs up. Effie pretended not to notice. Corwin shook his head at her, but she could tell he was pleased, both that she’d volunteered for the job and that she was being such a sport about it.

  ‘OK, then. A patrol every four hours then, please, starting at ten tonight. Last one at six in the morning. And when you’re not outside, would you mind taking the hall spot again?’

  Effie nodded. ‘Not a problem.’

  ‘And, obviously, be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible when you come and go. A lot of the cameras tonight are centred on the hall and stairs.’

  Malc nodded. ‘They’re a favourite spot when it comes to catching anomalies on film.’

  ‘Such as that swirling mist tape you showed me the other day,’ Effie said. ‘Albeit I know that was a cellar. Anyway, I’ll try not to trigger anything off.’

  Tonight, Gisela was going to be back in Claudia’s bathroom. She was convinced that the cold spot was the source of the restlessness and dissatisfaction that she maintained was becoming more and more obvious. Malc would have to man the monitors alone, since Lonny couldn’t relieve him, which left Corwin to stay in Claudia’s bedroom, nostrils aquiver, and Jean to alternate between the downstairs rooms.

  Isabel said she was having an early night, and by nine, everyone had settled down to their chores. The house fell silent and it began to get dark. And Effie, sitting in her armchair in the hall, waited patiently for the hall clock to strike ten.

  * * *

  There was barely a half-moon, but whether it was waxing or waning, she was never sure, and as she walked along the neatly mown paths between the informal flowerbeds, she let the small, battery-operated torch in her pocket stay where it was. Her night vision allowed her to see far more anyway, and she knew that Corwin preferred light sources to be restricted to a minimum.

  The occasional moth flittered about, and occasionally she caught the lovely scent of early honeysuckle, climbing up the perimeter wall. Her circuit eventually took her to the boundary with the Rollright Inn next door, and in the night air, she could hear the chatter of people and the occasional clatter of cutlery as the odd late-night diner finished their meal before retiring to the bar.

  The sound was vaguely reassuring, although Effie hadn’t, in fact, felt in the least bit apprehensive all night. From time to time she would look carefully about her, but there was nothing that struck her in any way as odd. No shadows where there shouldn’t be any, no white shapes flitting by, no ghostly voices sighing in the breeze. She smiled to herself as she made her way back around the side of the house and once more towards the front door.

  The front garden would take about two minutes to look over. After that, she’d be able to go back inside and try not to set off any of Malc’s motion sensors as she did so.

  It must have been getting on for nearly eleven o’clock, and in the street a car started up and drove away. And with everything seeming so normal, and with her mind more occupied on how she could best regain entry into the house without anyone being disturbed by her movements, it took a moment for her to realize what was happening.

  But then, with her next breath, she suddenly became aware of it — the scent of lavender was all around her, enveloping her. Stronger than she’d smelt it in Claudia’s bedroom. Much stronger. In fact, it was almost choking her. The scent was so strong in the back of her throat now she could almost taste it. And what’s more, it felt warm. Like someone’s breath.

  Instantly her head snapped up, and the little cry of surprise that had formed in her mouth came out in a strangled moan as she saw what was directly in front of her.

  The mist!

  Wafting in the cooler dark night air, it was clearly visible — a pale white vapour, tinted vaguely orange by the streetlight opposite. It rose in the air, more or less in a straight line, heading up.

  Effie gulped, stumbled back and then fumbled frantically in her pocket for her phone. With shaking fingers, she managed to turn it on.

  The scent of lavender was still overpowering, but now Effie was distracted by something else. Something new. A sound. She could clearly hear something. And this was not some of Malc’s beloved EVP that needed to be amplified by a computer. This was clearly audible to the human ear. A sort of gurgling noise.

  Was it really possible that she was hearing some sort of communication attempt from beyond the grave?

  Effie froze.

  Gurgling?

  For a second, her brain seemed to do a sort of side-slip, as it went from unthinking, instinctiv
e, atavistic panic, into a much more prosaic search mode. Because that gurgling noise sounded somehow familiar.

  And since Effie was sure that she’d never heard a ghost before, just what the hell was it?

  By now her brain was definitely insistent that she’d heard that noise before. What’s more, her eyes were telling her that what she was seeing now wasn’t the same as what she had seen on the recording Malc had shown her of the mist in the cellar of the house in Steeple Aston. That had been thick and had moved in a distinct, swirling, dancing motion. Whereas the mist in front of her was paler, and much thinner, and seemed to be moving up and dissipating in a steady stream. It looked in fact like . . . steam.

  Steam.

  Water. Gurgling. Yes!

  Her brain gave a mental high-five. That’s what it was that she was hearing — water gurgling, as only water can gurgle when it was confined in some way and trying to get out.

  And a second after that breakthrough, Effie realized exactly where she was. In the front garden, right next to the Rollright Inn. As she looked up, she noticed the drainpipe that ran down the wall. And remembered, standing in Claudia’s bedroom, looking down at the drain below the window.

  And then she began to laugh. Indeed, for a few seconds, she could do nothing but lean against the wall, literally gurgling with laughter herself. Finally, realizing that she was still holding the phone in her hand — and that only a few seconds had actually passed, although she felt as if she’d just aged ten years — she speed-dialled Corwin’s number.

  ‘Yes?’ his whispered answer came softly in her ear.

  ‘I’m outside in the front garden. I’ve found the lavender lady,’ Effie said. OK, she knew it was a bit naughty, but she was feeling so giddy with relief that she wasn’t thinking straight. ‘She’s still here, but you’d better come quick, before she disappears.’ And so saying, Effie turned off the phone.

  She glanced up at the inn once more, wondering which guest, in which of the rooms facing the street, was at that moment stepping from a bath full of lavender-scented bath water after pulling the plug. Because that was undoubtedly what had just happened.