Echoes of the Past

by Mailer, Deborah

  Tom realized he had been staring. “Yes, call me, Tom. You seem very familiar to me, Miss Brook.”

  “Eva, please, I would have remembered if we had met before, can I get you something to drink?”

  Tom declined the offer and sat down on a chair with his back to the large Georgian windows that made the room swim in light.

  “Your wife used to keep a photo of you and your daughter, Tess? On her desk.”

  “Jess.” Tom corrected.

  “Sorry, Jess. I was envious of her, you all seemed so happy in it.”

  “We were. You said on the phone that you owed it to Sara to meet with me, what did you mean.”

  Eva took a deep breath and leaned back on the sofa across from him.

  “I was referred to Sara by my GP. I was suffering from a deep depression; I had hit the bottle quite hard. Sara saved my life. She helped me come to terms with what had happened to Jill, in fact.” Eva spread her hands and indicated her surroundings. “You could say I owe all this to her.”

  “Why?”

  “After a few sessions with her she told me she taught a creative writing class at the university in the evenings. She said I might find it therapeutic to attend. She got me started in writing. Before long, I got my first paid writing job with Bailey and Hill. I made partner by the time I was forty.”

  “What are Bailey and Hill?”

  “We do advertisements mostly; we have even been known to do some PR work for some prominent MPs in the past.”

  “Looking at this place, it certainly pays well.”

  “Quite a change for a depressed barmaid in a two bedroom flat.”

  “You attended the writing course; I found this in Sara’s things.” Tom lifted the papers from his brief case and handed them to her.

  “Oh good, my early stuff,” she remarked sarcastically as she took the papers with a smile. Tom watched the smile fade as she read the first few lines of the story.

  “You told me on the phone you had never been to Coppersfield. That is undoubtedly Coppersfield you describe.”

  Eva sighed and placed the papers on the coffee table between them. Tom watched as she picked imaginary specks from her black trousers.

  “Tom, have you ever kept a secret that scared you so much, that even when you escape that life, when you move on, you still can’t seem to utter the words that you have held in?”

  Tom watched her silently.

  “I knew this day would come, God, I almost welcome it. Yes, the story was about my experience in Coppersfield.”

  “Who were you visiting?”

  “My father left when I was very young, my mother struggled. Her sister had married a man from Coppersfield, he was very wealthy. My mother went there to ask for help. I don’t know what happened between her and her sister, but we never went back, she had nothing to do with any of her family again.”

  “Who were you visiting?”

  “My Aunt Martha.”

  Tom realized what he found so familiar. She looked like her aunt, the same hypnotic green eyes.

  “Martha Ingles?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

  Eva nodded silently.

  “The man in the barn? Was that a member of the stable staff?”

  Eva closed her eyes tight trying to shut out the memories of what she had seen.

  “You have to remember, Tom. I was only six years old, I was not sure of what I was seeing, and even less sure that I should tell anyone. I haven’t spoken about this in over forty-five years.” Her voice had become a husky whisper.

  “Eva you witnessed the murder of a young woman called Susanna Wheeling. Her family deserve to know what happened to her.”

  “Yes, I know.” She wiped the corner of her eye. “I should have spoken up a long time ago, I have just spent my whole life afraid of what would happen if I said the words.” She took a deep breath in. “It was my uncle. It was Duncan Ingles that I saw in the barn that night.”

  Tom’s head was swimming. He had spent a lot of time at Ingaldean estate when he was growing up. His father-in-law, Jimmy, had been close friends with Duncan, could he possibly have known.

  “Duncan Ingles? And you’re sure?”

  Eva let out a short ironic laugh. “And you wonder why I never told. Yes Duncan Ingles, pillar of the community, owned half of Coppersfield at one time, yes, I am sure.”

  Tom leaned back in his chair.

  Jill Patterson disappeared in 1984 and Duncan Ingles was hospitalized with stroke in 1985, so he could have killed her. But Chloe Davis, unless he had a partner there was no way he could have taken her. So who was his partner forty-five years ago? Tom thought.

  *****

  Lee folded the covers away from the living room. It was a true saying that everything would seem better in the morning. The night before, seemed nothing more than a bad dream to her now.

  “How you feeling this morning,” she asked Jess when she went through to the kitchen.

  “I’m fine. I know this might sound bad, but I feel better now that you have seen her too.”

  “I still don’t believe what I saw,” Lee answered. Her head tilted to one side as she thought about the implications of what had happened. Could it be at all possible that she really did see a ghost?

  “I thought I was crazy the first time I saw her, especially when you and Dad couldn’t see her.”

  Lee sat at the table across from her and shuddered at the thought that she had been sitting in that room completely oblivious to something watching her.

  “Think about this, Jess, you seem very accepting of it. Do you really believe that a ghost stands in the corner of your room each night in the hope of scaring you.”

  Jess thought about what Lee was saying. “Aunt Lee, I can’t explain it any more than you can, I just know that I feel a lot better this morning now that I know you can see her too. I have been telling both you and Dad that this place was creepy.”

  Lee shook her head. She couldn’t deny what she had seen, but she couldn’t accept it either. She was racking her brain for any other explanation for what she thought she saw. In addition, she was certainly not looking forward to having this conversation with Tom.

  Jess finished her breakfast and got ready for Gemma. At 10am, the two girls left the house and headed up to Ingaldean Estate.

  As they turned up School Wynd Jess took the keys her uncle had given her from her pocket, when they got to the estate the gates where locked.

  “Uncle Matt must not be back yet,” she said to Gemma as she unlocked the gate and pushed them both open.

  Jess had been telling Gemma about how validated she felt now that Lee was feeling like a crazy person after her encounter with the girl in the bedroom. Gemma failed to see the funny side of it. She was horrified that Jess had been putting up with it for so long. She was also a bit mad that she hadn’t told her she had seen her before they used the Ouija board in her bedroom.

  The two girls thought about all the other explanations there could be for what Jess and Lee had seen and decided it was a fully-fledged ghost sighting.

  Half an hour later both girls had saddled up their horses and were riding around the fields on the Ingaldean estate. Jess had a sense of relief; she hadn’t felt this at ease for a long time. Just knowing that she wasn’t the only one that could see the girl in her room made a huge difference to her, but still, she would be swapping rooms when she got home tonight.

  Gemma and Jess had been riding for almost an hour when the sky became a dark grey, storm clouds rolled across the sky in a grey streak blocking out the sun.

  “We better head back, Gemma, I don’t know how the horses will be if we get thunder.” They steered the horses back in the direction they had come. The heavens opened and the rain came down in streaks, soaked to the skin, the water running into their eyes the girls arrived back at the house. They took the horses around to the stable house to dry them off.

  As the thunder began to clap overhead, the horses began to shuffle in their stalls. Becomin
g more and more restless, Rain turned in circles.

  “I can’t muck out with her in there.”

  “Move her.” Gemma said.

  Jess looked around. “I’ll put her in the stall on the other side till I clean out, give me a hand.”

  “Won’t Matt mind, he said not to use that side.”

  “It’s only for ten minutes; I think he meant not to stable them in there.” The girls cautiously led Rain across the barn to the adjacent stall. Jess began to muck out while Gemma went for the wheelbarrow containing the sawdust. Rain began to stomp and kick in the stall behind them they could hear the sound of cracking wood as the horse became more and more afraid.

  “It’s all right, Rain, it’s only thunder, and we’ll be done in a minute.”

  “Well, I am not going in there to get her out, she’s going mad,” remarked Gemma. The girls rushed the cleaning of the stall and then turned to get her out. Jess stroked her nose, soothed her as she gently opened the stall door, and led her through to the freshly cleaned one. The animal jerked her head and dug her hoofs into the soft ground.

  Jess finally got her in and closed the stall door.

  “You ready to do yours, Gemma?” Jess turned to see Gemma bending down in the stall behind her. “What are you looking at?”

  “Come here and see this, Jess.” Jess walked over to were Gemma was crouching against the back wall. “I think there is another room back there.”

  “What? Let me see.”

  Gemma moved away revealing two planks of wood that Rain had dislodged during her tantrum. Jess pulled on them and the rest of the wood moved forward.

  “It’s a door,” said Jess.

  “Cool,” said Gemma. Jess pulled the door opened and looked inside. A light string hung in front of her face, she pulled it and illuminated a dirt staircase to one side leading down in to another room. A chill ran through her. She stepped back to close the door.

  “What are you doing, are you not going to have a look.”

  “No, I don’t think we should, I get a bad feeling about it, Gemma.”

  Gemma peered inside. “No wonder your uncle doesn’t use these stalls. Do you think he knows its here?”

  “I don’t know. You better come out of there, Gemma.”

  “Oh come on, Jess, let’s just have a look, we might have discovered something that your uncle doesn’t know about, he might be really pleased we found it. Anyway, there’s no one up here.” Gemma looked at her pleadingly. Jess could feel panic rising from somewhere deep down inside of her.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Gem, anyway we have to muck out.” Rain was still restless behind them, each clap of thunder made the animal worse. The loud noise of it unsettled Jess making her feel jumpy.

  “I’m sorry, Jess, but I have got to see where this staircase goes; I have never found a secret room before. God, my house isn’t even big enough to hide a secret cupboard. Look, it goes under ground,” she said pointing out the obvious at the downward stairs.

  Jess looked around her. She rolled a stack of hay from the corner of the stall and placed it in front of the door. Gemma looked at her.

  “Well, I don’t want the door to close while we’re in there.”

  “There’s a great big gaping hole in it anyway.”

  Reluctantly Jess followed Gemma down the dimly lit stairs. The stench of damp soil filled her nostrils. At the bottom of the wood and dirt makeshift staircase, there stood a large wooden door. Gemma pushed it open and a narrow stream of light spilled in from the hallway to the black room.

  “I can’t see a thing, Jess.”

  “Feel about for a light switch.”

  Gemma slid her hands along the wall. “I can’t find one.”

  “Try above your head, feel for a pull string.” A slight click and the room was swathed in a hard yellowish light.

  Gemma gasped as she entered the room. “Look at it, Jess, it’s big.”

  Filled with trepidation Jess followed close at her heels. A sense of danger creeping up inside her. The smells of the area had given her a familiar, yet unsettled feeling.

  “I don’t think we should be down here, Gemma.”

  “It truly is a secret room. I bet your uncle doesn’t even know it’s here.”

  Gemma began looking round her. Jess walked further into the room. Her eyes scanned the area. In the centre of the room there sat a large wooden chair. A set of handcuffs hung lifelessly from the arms, their metal glinting in the dim light. In the far corner of the room, an old metal bed was pushed against the wall. What looked like leather shackles lay still across the mattress. A large rectangular box, made of wood, with a closed lid sat over at one side of the room. A tripod stand stood in the corner with a camera mounted on it focused in the centre of the room at the old chair. Each item was innocuous on its own, yet they had come together to create a far more sinister picture.

  Jess stood frozen in horror at what she was seeing. The damp earthy ground beneath her feet was something she had felt before.

  “Look at this, Jess.” Gemma’s voice had lowered to a whisper. She was standing in front of an old desk pushed up against the wall. Jess looked over. She knew what Gemma had found before her eyes came to rest on them. An old cloth covered the desk; on top of it lay a selection of tools and instruments, most of which were alien to the girls. Gemma lifted one of the metal tools from the desk and turned it around in her hand.

  “This looks like the thing my dentist used to take my tooth out.”

  Jess’s voice had become trapped in her throat; she could almost hear her own heart beat.

  “Look, a bracelet,” said Gemma holding a piece of jewellery up to the harsh light. Jess could see the silver angel bracelet hanging from Gemma’s hand. She instantly recognised it as the one she had given Olivia the Christmas before she disappeared. Nothing made sense, except the urgency to leave.

  “I don’t think anyone has been down here for some time, Jess.” Gemma drew her hand across the thick layer of dust and dirt that lay still on the desktop.

  “Gemma! We have to get out of here.” Jess’s voice was a husky whisper, she couldn’t take her eyes from the bracelet that Gemma had placed on the desk.

  “What?”

  “We have to go now!” Jess had realized why it was all so familiar to her. “This is the place, the place from my dreams, we have to leave.”

  Gemma turned away from the old desk. The confused look was replaced with something resembling fright. Jess felt a presence behind her as the shadow of a man was cast on the dirt floor before her.

  *****

  Eva’s hands were shaking as she handed Tom a mug of coffee. When she sat back down Tom noticed she looked exhausted.

  “Was there anyone with Duncan that night?”

  “No, he acted alone.”

  “Who was the cousin you were with, I take it you both witnessed this?”

  “Mathew Ingles.”

  “Matt witnessed this? He saw his father do this?” Tom considered that this might be the reason Matt was happy to lock his father away. Pretend that he was dead.

  “You know him?” Her surprise was clear.

  “The night Jill disappeared, tell me about it, I take it you believe Duncan took her too?” All the pieces were starting to come together, Containing his anticipation he continued to dig for more answers from Eva.

  “No, it wasn’t my uncle. Jill had left to meet friends at the Lands End pub. I didn’t go that night, I had no money.” Eva shuffled in her seat; her discomfort was palpable. “That night I had a visitor. He knew Jill was my flat mate. He had offered her a job in his new company that Daddy had help set him up in.”

  “Matt? Matt visited you that night?”

  Eva nodded. Nothing was making sense to Tom. Matt had been like his older brother, none of this added up.

  “I told him where she was, but I also told him to leave her alone. You have to understand, I was terrified of the Ingles family.”

  “I thought your mother h
adn’t seen them in years.”

  “She hadn’t, but when Matt started university in England, he used to call in on me sometimes when he was going home for holidays. He would subtly remind me that some secrets were to be taken to the grave. Anyway, he liked Jill. I warned him to stay away.” Eva closed her eyes as if trying not to remember. “As he was leaving he whispered to me.” Eva swallowed hard and lowered her shaking voice. “It’s so easy to make a young woman disappear now-a-days. Half the time the police don’t even bother to look for them, Eva, especially if they are all alone in the world like you.” Eva wiped her hand over her face. “Anyway, that was the last time I ever saw Jill, that was my guilty secret.”

  Tom looked at her in disbelief. “You’re telling me that Matt killed Jill?”

  Eva nodded.

  “And Matt? Do you see him?”

  “He hasn’t approached me since that night. A few times I have seen him around, in coffee bars that I go to or just standing outside a shop. As though he’s just letting me know that he’s still watching. That was why I didn’t want to meet with you, but I think it’s time I faced the fear and the guilt. I knew what the Ingles family was and I never stopped them.”

  Tom could not offer her comfort. “I don’t understand why you never sought help; they lived far enough away that you could have gone to the police without their knowledge.”

  “What do you think I was doing when I wrote that story, it may have taken me years to do it, but after my mother passed away I was truly on my own. Even you had doubts that the Ingles could be involved.”

  “Did you discuss this with Sara?” A sickening realization was beginning to dawn on Tom.

  “She asked if it was Coppersfield. I didn’t tell her. She asked if Jill was connected to the story. If that was why she was taken.” Eva leaned forward with her head in her hands. “Oh God, I told her, Yes. If I had known what would happen I would never have told her anything. But after I heard that Sara had died in an accident, I started to believe the Ingles where untouchable.”

  “You met with Sara the day she died. It was in her diary. Did you tell her it was Matt Ingles?”