Moorcroft The Possession

by Sandra Callister

  It was on a clear Sunday morning that Charlotte put her plan in motion. The sky was blue and the birds were singing and she had heard Richard in the kitchen making himself breakfast. She knew that he always took his coffee into the drawing room to drink and he would stand at the window and look across the grounds and down the drive. Today would be different, today he would notice her.

  In the kitchen Richard was eating his breakfast, cereals and toast and marmalade, the coffee was slowly percolating on the stove. His Sundays were, more or less, the same each week. He would have a leisurely breakfast, take Dancing Lady for her exercise then go down to the village for his Sunday papers and sit and read the news for the rest of the day. Mary always left him some cold meat for his dinner and he would have a baked potato and salad plus there were always some of Mary’s delicious cakes in the pantry. The day was what he made it. He put the dirty dishes in the sink to wash later and filled his mug with his second coffee and sauntered across the hall, his foot falls echoing on the wooden floor. In the drawing room he put his coffee cup down on the side table and pulled back the curtains; the sun flooded the room and made him squint. Another sunny day, perhaps he should sit outside in the fresh air. It was then he saw her, a young woman bent over tending to his mother’s roses.

  He went to the front door and stood in the porch watching her. She looked familiar but he couldn’t place her, either she hadn’t heard him opening the door or she was deliberately ignoring him, he couldn’t decide which. He watched her move from one rose bush to another a pair of secateurs snipping off foliage and dead heads. Her skirt caught on a thorny stem and she swore as she tried to free herself.

  “Stand still or you’ll tear your skirt.”

  She swung round and smiled. He bent down and released the fabric and looked into the smiling face. “No harm done, just a little pull on the hem, I’m sure it can be fixed.”

  “Thank you, these thorns can be lethal.” She bent and held up her skirt for a better look and Richard admired her shapely legs and glossy black hair draped across her face. When she stood up and faced him he had the feeling they had met before but couldn’t think where. He was the first to speak.

  “I’m sorry but have we met before and what are you doing here?”

  She looked embarrassed. “Oh yes, my name is Charlotte, you must be Richard Gardener the owner of Moorcroft.”

  He took her arm and steered her towards the bench by the drawing room window. They sat down looking at each other; she played with the secateurs nervously.

  “Charlotte, I’ve heard that name before.”

  “You will have, I used to sit with your mother at night, and we talked a lot.”

  “Ah, that’s right my mother mentioned your name several times, I thought you were a figment of her imagination, now here you are in the flesh, but why are you here now?”

  “I was speaking to someone in the village and they mentioned how your garden had become neglected and I knew how much your mother had loved her roses so I thought I would come and tend to them. I’m sorry I should have asked your permission first, I’ll go now.”

  “No, please don’t go, come into the kitchen and have a coffee, I don’t get many visitors.”

  Charlotte followed him into the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table and watched as Richard made a fresh pot of coffee. Brandy sat in his basket staring at her a low growl escaping his lips. She was happy to see the strain had gone from Richard’s features and a smile was always ready on his face. Her plan was working, now she must take care not to ruin it.

  “Do you take milk and sugar?”

  “Oh yes, both please.” She had never liked coffee but she mustn’t spoil things now. He brought the cups to the table and sat opposite her.

  “Now tell me, how come you sat with my mother most nights and I never met you?”

  “It was probably because you were always cooped up in your study. Anyway, I sat with your mother when most people were asleep. She talked a lot about you.”

  Richard scowled. “Oh no, that leaves me at a disadvantage. Tell me how come I knew nothing about you?”

  “Well the old lady that sat with your mother was asleep for most of the night and your mother needed someone to watch over her. I enjoyed talking to her, I miss her.”

  “I wish you had met her when she was in good health, ran this house like a military operation, kept me and my sister in order I can tell you.” He looked down at her cup. “You haven’t touched your coffee is it not to your taste?”

  She smiled. “I’m not too keen on coffee to be honest, I’m sorry.”

  He picked up the cups and took them to the sink. “You should have said. Would you like a cold drink or tea perhaps?”

  She shook her head. “No really, I don’t want anything. I think I should be getting back now, you don’t mind me taking care of the roses?”

  “Not at all, but how did you get here, I didn’t see a car?”

  “I like to walk, especially on a nice day like today.”

  “Perhaps next time you come I can ask Mary to make us both some lunch. There will be a next time?”

  She turned her head away and frowned. “Oh yes I’ll call again now I know that you don’t mind, but I would rather you didn’t mention my visit, I wouldn’t want to tread on anyone’s toes.”

  At the door Richard watched as she strolled down the drive, one minute she was there the next she had vanished.

  Over the next few days he found himself standing at the windows looking out for Charlotte but she didn’t appear. Perhaps he had scared her off. Little did he know that she was always close by watching him. She was glad that Eddie was leaving; now she would have him all to herself, if only she could get rid of the gossiping women in the kitchen, Richard was often found in there listening to their stupid prattle. On several occasions she had followed Mary around the house as she dusted and tidied, she had left windows open and knocked things over but the silly woman took no notice, perhaps she was losing her touch, she must think of something more drastic.

  Mary had given him a list of things she needed in the house, she had offered to get them for him but he enjoyed going into the village and talking to the locals. Mary would go into the butchers and choose the cuts of meat and Richard would go in to collect and pay for them later, it was a good system. He would pick up his morning paper and collect his mail. Outside the small post office he looked at the four envelopes and his excitement mounted three bills and an envelope written in Sarah’s hand. He pushed them in his pocket eager to get home and to read his sister’s letter.

  He rushed into the kitchen and looked around for Mary; she must be upstairs cleaning somewhere. He put the shopping on the table and put the meat into the fridge for her to sort out later. He got himself a glass of water and stood at the kitchen sink looking at the envelope. Would it tell him all was well that Sarah and Charles were coming home, there was only one way to find out. He emptied his glass and walked into the study and sat at his desk. He looked at the white envelope and Sarah’s writing, he turned it over and over in his hand. Taking the letter opener he slit it across the top and took out a single sheet of paper and began to read.

  Dear Richard,

  I am glad that you are at last getting your life back in order and that you have stopped drinking. Charles’s mother was only trying to protect me when she refused to give you our address but you found us anyway. Charles is happy working for his father although he does miss the countryside and the old house, as I do. Victoria’s death was such a loss to me that I withdrew from reality, it was as if a part of me had died with her and losing the family and my home only made matters worse. I found it hard to come to terms that I was never going to see her again. Then the shock of father’s death and mother’s illness just as I was feeling more myself knocked me back, it was only Charles’s love and understanding that pulled me through. I know that you must have been going through the same feelings and I’m sorry that I couldn’t be by your side but the burden of blame tha
t you put at my hand was too much to bear and I blamed you for the time I lost with our parents before they died.

  I have spoken to many doctors and I have had to deny many things in order to get my health back on track. One thing I am sure of, something that no one will believe, and that is that you are not alone at Moorcroft, someone threatened both Victoria and myself, of that I am certain and it was that same someone who pushed her to her death and I am sorry that I couldn’t prevent it.

  As much as we love Moorcroft we will not be coming back, it would stir up too many sad memories and I think that you still blame me for Victoria’s death and I couldn’t live under that cloud. Charles and I are happy and we are making a new life for ourselves and we want nothing more to do with Moorcroft. Stay there alone, living in the past or sell it and start a new life as we have done, the choice is yours. As long as you believe I am responsible for Victoria’s death we have nothing more to say to each other. Take care of yourself Richard

  Your Sister Sarah

  Richard read the letter over and over again trying to understand its meaning. They would not be coming back to Moorcroft, that was for sure but this drivel about another person living here, was she still unstable? His anger returned as he relived that fateful morning and he remembered the look of love that was in Victoria’s eyes as she slipped away in his arms. Tears ran down his face and he brushed them away. He screwed up the letter and threw it in the bin and reached for the whisky bottle. An hour later Mary entered the study with a tray containing Richard’s lunch and found him slumped in his chair.

  “Is everything okay Master Richard?”

  He waved his hand in the air. “I’m fine Mary just fine; now leave me alone, please.”

  Mary shook her head from side to side, closed the door quietly and made her way back to the kitchen.

  Charlotte had watched the different emotions cross Richard’s face, hope, anger and despair and now the drinking, what was she to do? She came from out of the shadows and knelt at his feet and reached for his hand. He looked down into her smiling face. “Are you alright Richard?”

  At first he didn’t recognise her through his blurred vision and then he realised it was the woman from the rose garden. “Charlotte, I didn’t hear you come in.” He wiped the tears from his face and straightened in the chair. “I’m sorry, I’ve just had some bad news, my sister refuses to come back home.”

  Charlotte repressed a smile. “I am sorry; you were both very close at one time I believe.”

  He nodded and looked at the tray on his desk. “Look Mary has just brought me my lunch, I’ll ask her to bring another plate and we can both eat in the dining room.”

  Charlotte panicked. “Oh no really, I’ve just eaten, you just sit there and enjoy your meal.”

  He looked at the empty glass and the empty bottle. “I’m not really hungry; perhaps we could have coffee or tea.”

  Outside the door Mary could hear him talking to some one, she gently knocked and walked in. She looked around the room, Richard was alone.

  “I’ll be going home in a few minutes would you like me to get you anything more?”

  Richard smiled, “Just a coffee for me and tea for Charlotte.”

  He looked at Mary’s face. “Have I said something wrong?”

  Mary looked around the room once more. “Are you expecting visitors Master Richard?”

  He looked at the chair Charlotte had occupied, it was empty. He looked around the room, where had she gone. “No I’m sorry Mary, just a coffee for me please.”

  Richard ran his hand through his hair, what had just happened here?

  ####

  CHAPTER 16

  Richard settled into a routine, he would rise early and have a light breakfast then take Dancing Lady out for some exercise. When he got back he would see to the horses and muck out the stables and put down clean straw, let the horses out into the paddock and then he would have a coffee. Most mornings he would drive into the village to collect his mail and his paper and pick up anything Mary might need, then he would come back to Moorcroft and read his newspapers in the drawing room until Mary told him lunch was ready. Each day he hoped to find a letter from Sarah saying she had changed her mind and was coming home but each morning he was disappointed.

  After lunch he would sometimes try to do some gardening but green fingers he did not have. Riding around on the lawn mower was fun but the grass often looked flattened and scraggy but what did it matter there was only him to see it. He would look at the rose garden and wonder if Charlotte would be back to tend to it, once more the weeds had collected and the roses needed dead heading. He would often see her walking across the lawns but she seldom stayed long, he wondered if he had upset her in some way. The only real pleasure in life was Dancing Lady but horse feed and bedding were rocketing in price, how long could he keep her and her colt. Boredom and depression soon took him over and the drinking started again. It began with just a couple at night before he went to bed, then he needed another to warm him up after his run out with the horses, soon another followed his lunch. Mary watched and felt sorry for him but there was nothing she could do.

  Charlotte also watched over him but her visits to Richard were short and sweet with the woman Mary always hovering about. The only time she could spend time with him was at night as he slept, how she longed to be a part of his life, but his drinking and his obsession with his sister and her dead friend kept them apart. Richard sent Sarah several letters asking how she was and would she re-think about coming back to Moorcroft, but he waited in vain for her replies. The months came and went without a word. He got back in touch with the detective agency and asked them to seek Sarah and Charles out and report back with any developments. When the brown envelope arrived he was too excited to wait until he got home and opened it in his car outside the post office. The detective had explained that his sister still lived in the same house but now there was an addition to the family. Richard shook the envelope and several photographs fell out onto his knee. There looking up at him was the most beautiful child he had ever seen, with his blonde curly hair and the bluest of eyes he had to be Sarah’s son, his nephew. Several emotions went through him, happiness and joy looking down at the boy, anger that no one had told him about the child and sadness that unless Sarah came back, he would never see him. Tears ran from his eyes and clouded his vision as he made his way back to Moorcroft.

  Mary heard the car screech to a stop in the yard and went to put the kettle on, the back door banged, it sounded like he was in a bad mood and a few minutes later she heard the study door bang too. Oh dear, what’s happened now? She made a pot of tea and put it and a cup and saucer on the tray along with a piece of Madeira cake baked fresh that morning.

  She tapped on the study door and walked in. “I thought you might like a cuppa while you read your paper.”

  Richard was slumped in his chair, already holding a glass of whisky in his hand. He didn’t look up but Mary could see he had been crying.

  “Is everything okay, Master Richard?”

  She put the tray down on the side table as he handed her a photograph, it was of a small child sitting on a tricycle, with legs spread wide, laughter creasing his little face as he raced towards the open arms of his father. She didn’t have her glasses but she could see that the man was unmistakably Charles Wesley.

  “This is never Sarah’s child?”

  Richard laughed. “Of course it is, surely you can see the resemblance.”

  Looking down on the picture a smile crossed her face. “It’s like looking back in time he’s the image of you when you were a little boy. You must be so happy knowing you have a nephew.”

  His head bowed low. “Yes, I’m happy but Mary when will I ever see him?”

  Mary frowned and shook her head. “Miss Sarah has started a new life and you must do the same, we know that Miss Victoria was the love of your life but you can’t mourn forever, you have to pull yourself together and just get on with it.”

  That sai
d she left the room. Richard emptied his glass and pondered over her words. She was right, he had to stop wallowing in self pity but no one would ever take the place of his Victoria.

  Richard put his heart and soul into taking care of the horses and it was on a bright sunny morning as he raked the foul smelling straw from the stables that Charlotte appeared. She stood by the door and watched his rippling muscles as he heaved the fork back and forth, how she longed to hold him. He sensed that someone was behind him and looked over his shoulder. A smile crossed his face as he stood and leant on the fork and looked at her, he realised he was pleased to see her.

  She put her head on one side. “I was just on one of my walks when I thought I would pop in to see you, how are you?”

  “Look I’m ready for a break why don’t you come into the house and I’ll get Mary to bring us some tea.”

  She shook her head. “No thanks I can’t stay long, perhaps another time.”

  He stood and looked at her, she was quite attractive with her long black hair and blue eyes and she had a good figure, something he hadn’t noticed before. Charlotte sensed his approval and moved closer and rested her hand on his arm.

  “I have to get back to the village but perhaps I could call back later for a chat. It’s been a while since we talked.”

  He nodded. “That would be nice I don’t get many visitors, would you like me to collect you from the village?”

  “Oh no, I’ll get my friend to drop me off at the gate and walk up.”