Moorcroft The Possession

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Moorcroft The Possession Page 24

by Sandra Callister


  He had refused to sack Mary or put her on shorter hours and Charlotte had screamed and yelled at him, in the end it came down to her ultimatum, either Mary went or she would refuse to visit him again, he had to decide and give her an answer that night. Charlotte talked of love and commitment but deep in his heart he knew he would never love anyone as he had loved Victoria. He was fond of Charlotte and they had a good laugh and had fun in bed but love had never entered his head, but he couldn’t tell Charlotte that. If he got rid of Mary and she moved into Moorcroft, the next thing she would demand would be a wedding ring and that was out of the question. Richard had noticed the many faces of Charlotte over the years, she had changed from the quiet loving young lady to a demanding mistress, to a quarrelsome spoilt woman who demanded his full attention and her own way, but to be without her now would throw him once more into loneliness and depression.

  He was still in deep thought when he entered the kitchen. Mary was just taking a casserole dish from the old Aga; she looked at him as he walked to the table and sat down. Over by the sink she filled the kettle and placed it on the range to boil.

  “You look like a man with a lot on his mind, would a nice cup of tea help sort things out?”

  Richard smiled at her, he had a great fondness for Mary, and she had looked after him well over the years and stood by him when others had deserted him.

  “That would be very nice Mary, thank you.” He watched her as she collected the cups from the dresser and spooned tea into the teapot.

  “I have a small favour to ask you Master Richard.”

  He looked at her back as she busied herself at the sink. “What is it Mary?”

  She turned and looked at him. “My mother hasn’t been at all well these last few days and I was wondering if perhaps I could have a few days off to take care of her, I could still pop up in the afternoons and leave you something for your dinner, but could you manage your own breakfast and lunch, that’s the question?”

  Richard smiled, his problem solved even if only for a short while. “Mary, of course you must have the time off to take care of your mother and if the fridge and freezer are stocked I am sure I could cope with all my meals. You just concentrate on your mother’s well being and when she’s feeling better we can sort out your hours to suit you.”

  Mary sat opposite him and patted his hand. “That’s very obliging of you. Now I have cold meats, fruit and vegetables in the fridge and I’ve prepared meals and labelled them all and put them in the freezer but you must remember to take them out the night before so that they defrost and then you can just warm them up in the stove.”

  Richard nodded.

  “Now you might find the range a little temperamental at times, it’s on its last legs I’m afraid but if you watch the temperature gauge you can’t go far wrong, but you must remember to empty the ashes and keep it filled up with coal. Now about your washing, you can try and do it yourself, I can leave you instructions on how to work the washer or you can pop it down to my place and I’ll do it with mine, it’s up to you.”

  Richard’s jaw dropped as he looked at her smiling face. “How long have you been planning this Mary?”

  She looked down at her hands and smiled. “For a week or two now, mother has been getting steadily worse and I knew one day I would have to stay with her.”

  Richard took both of her hands in his. “Mary you and your mother have looked after my family as long as I can remember, the least I can do is let you have time off to look after your sick mother and don’t worry about money, you’ll still get your wages paid in full.” Seeing the tears spring to Mary’s eyes he stood up from the table. “I assume that casserole is for my dinner this evening so you can leave whenever you like. Now don’t you worry about me, I’m a grown man, I’m sure I can take care of myself, now off you go and give my regards to your mother.”

  Seeing Mary nod and reach for a handkerchief he made a quick exit.

  In his study he sat at his desk and rocked in his chair, that was one problem solved if only temporarily but Charlotte need not know that. The morning was turning out quite nicely. He looked down at the many envelopes still unopened, while he had a moment he should catch up on his mail. Most of the letters were either circulars or bills and something from his bank, a colour supplement that had dropped out of his paper and a large manila envelope Steve Parker. He picked up the envelope and tore at the seal. Inside was the usual invoice for expenses incurred, a short report, nothing of significance in that and several photographs. He sat back and held them out in front of him, one was of Sarah and Charles sitting on a park bench, laughing and still looking very much in love. Another was of Charles playing football with a young boy of perhaps eight or nine years old. The last one was of the same young boy holding up a cup and looking very pleased with himself. He looked into the dark blue eyes of the boy and saw himself. He lay them down on his desk one by one and took a closer look. Sarah must be thirty four or five by now and Charles must be nearing forty, how time flies. Things could have been so different if Victoria hadn’t died, he looked at her photograph that he still kept on his desk, she was so beautiful, how he missed her. He brushed the tears from his face as Mary entered the room; she was already wearing her coat.

  “I’ll be off now if that’s okay, I’ll keep in touch and let you know how things are going.” She looked down at the photographs on the desk. “That never is our Miss Sarah and Master Charles?”

  Richard handed over the photographs, keeping the boys until last.

  “Well don’t they look happy, so she’s finally been in touch with you, I’m so pleased.”

  Not wanting to disappoint her he didn’t tell her of his private detective. He handed her the last photograph.

  Mary looked down on the face of the small child and then at Richard. “This must be Sarah’s boy, why it’s like turning back the clock and looking at you when you were a youngster. Well I never, wait till I tell mother, this will cheer her up a bit.”

  She patted him on the shoulder as she handed the picture back. “I’ll be off now and I’m right pleased for you.”

  Richard stared into the boys face as Mary left the room and Moorcroft. He put the photographs back into the envelope and put them to the back of his desk and reached for the envelope from the bank. As he slit open the top and reached in for the paperwork his thoughts were on Charlotte. She should be happy now that she had got her own way once more, Mary had gone from the house and she no longer had an excuse not to visit him, he cheered up knowing he would see her that evening. He opened up the paper and looked down on the bank statement, he was shocked at how small the balance was, how had he managed to get through all that money, still there was enough for a while but perhaps he would have to look for a job sooner or later, the prospect of working for someone else was daunting. His stomach growled, he looked up at the clock, it was time for lunch.

  Mary had left him sandwiches, he carried them to the drawing room and looked out over the garden, the grass was still growing and he contemplated going out on the lawnmower to give it a final cut. He took his plate back to the kitchen and looked out of the window at the sky, it was a little cloudy but he didn’t think there would be rain. He wrapped a scarf round his neck and put on his coat and made his way to the barn. He watched Dancing Lady and her colt in the paddock before driving the mower across the drive and onto the sweeping lawns to the front of the house. Upstairs Charlotte watched from the bedroom window, she was glad Mary had gone and although she yearned to be by Richard’s side she would keep him waiting so that on their next encounter he would want her all the more.

  Richard did his best cutting the grass but he had to admit it was no way as good as the gardener’s efforts, still, that would probably be it until the spring. He drove the mower back into the yard and cleaned it off, a job he did not enjoy, before putting it back in the barn. He walked to the paddock and Dancing Lady sauntered up to him and nuzzled his chest, the colt not far behind her. He opened the gate and led her t
o the stables; he would give her a rub down and settle her for the night.

  Charlotte had come down to meet him but stood unseen in the corner of the stables watching Richard lovingly tend to his precious mare. She became jealous of his attention and swished her skirts and the horse became unsettled, her eyes wide and frightened. Richard turned round expecting to see an intruder but there was no one there. As soon as he had got the horses settled, he locked up the stable door and went back into the house.

  In the kitchen he put on the kettle and checked the range for fuel. At the table his thoughts drifted to Charlotte and he began to make comparisons with Victoria. He was beginning to realise how possessive Charlotte was becoming, was that caused by insecurity, she never talked about her life, where she lived what kind of work she did, perhaps now they could spend more time together and get to know each other better. The pretty face of Victoria flashed before him and a smile crossed his face. Now there was a woman who didn’t have a jealous bone in her body, but then she knew how much he had loved her, worshipped her. He ran his hand through his hair, why oh why did she have to die, things would have been perfect, just the two of them together always. He carried his cup of tea to the study and sat at his desk. He reached for the photograph of Victoria, he closed his eyes to stop the flow of tears and his memories of the short time they had together came flooding back.

  He didn’t know how long he sat deep in thought before he realised that the light was going. He pushed back the chair and reached up and closed the curtains, shutting out the darkening sky. He decided he would go and have a shower and smarten himself up, it might get rid of this melancholy mood that had taken him over, and then he would have dinner and retire to the drawing room to await Charlotte. His footfalls were heavy as he climbed the stairs, the house didn’t feel quite as homely as he had always thought, a strange feeling of trepidation came over him and he shivered. He thought of Charlotte and hoped she would be in a good mood.

  In the bathroom she watched as the warm water cascaded over his muscular body and a tingling began in her stomach, could she hold off from touching him, she needed him to hold her close, to tell her he loved her, she would not be satisfied until he did.

  In the kitchen he poured himself a glass of wine and warmed up a plate of Mary’s casserole and sat at the kitchen table to eat. When he had finished he put the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, he would wash them in the morning with the breakfast things. With his glass in hand he made his way across the great hall to the study with the intentions of tidying his desk. He opened the door and found himself staring at the back of Charlotte; she was sat in his chair. “I never heard you come in, why didn’t you come into the kitchen we could have had something to eat together?” As he moved further into the room she turned to look up at him a look of thunder on her face, she was holding the photograph of Sarah and Charles. Richard reached for it but she held it behind her back.

  “Charlotte, what are you doing in here going through my things, give me that photograph at once?”

  She stood straight before him still gripping the photograph waving it in front of his face. “How did you get this, have you been in touch, is she coming back?”

  Richard grabbed for the picture but she held fast, swinging her arms and knocked the glass from his hand. He watched as the glass hit the fireplace, the red wine running down the marble like blood, the glass scattered onto the floor. Anger tore through him. “What’s got into you, what do you know of my sister?”

  Charlotte scowled at him. “I know a lot about her and her friend over there.” She pointed to Victoria’s picture on the desk.

  Richard was shocked at the look of pure hatred on her face.

  She waved the photograph in his face. “I will not have this woman back in the house, do you understand?”

  Richard was staggered at her attitude. “I say who comes and lives in this house not you; just who do you think you are? Give me that photograph, now?”

  Charlotte glared at him and looked down at the smiling couple, and then, never taking her eyes from Richard’s face, she slowly ripped the picture in two.

  Richard gasped and fell to his knees to pick up the pieces.

  Charlotte stood looking down at him. “If she comes back to this house I will make your life a living hell. I got rid of her once I will do it again. Heed my words Richard, unless you want another tragedy in this house.” She turned and made for the door.

  He staggered to his feet and gripping her arm he swung her round. “What do you mean, you got rid of her once before.”

  “No one stands in my way when I want something, do you hear me Richard, no one and I want you.”

  She opened the door to leave and Richard reached for her. She turned and pushed him to the floor, he was amazed at how strong she was. He sat there in shock staring after her, then he stumbled to the door shouting her name, but she was no where in sight. He ran through the hall, down the passage and flung open the back door and ran across the yard, looked in all directions, but she had vanished.

  He slowly walked back into the house and locked and bolted the back door and then returned to the study. He picked up the two pieces of the photograph from the floor and dropped into his chair. As he looked at Sarah’s face he tried to remember Charlotte’s angry words. What did she mean, she had got rid of her once, how had she got rid of her, what was going on here? He took pen and paper from the drawer and began to write, perhaps Sarah had the answers.

  My Dear Sarah,

  Since your last letter I have been seeing a young woman from the village. It is not common knowledge; in fact I don’t think anyone else knows of her existence. She will only visit me when no one else is around. At first I thought she was shy but I have now seen a sinister side to her character. She has become very possessive and I have had to put Mary on shorter hours just to please her.

  I would not, could not, love anyone but my Victoria but I am lonely and in the beginning she made me laugh, something I hadn’t done in a long time. As our relationship grew, she would visit me at night but be gone by morning. I could never understand how she got in the house or where she went, but she always found some reasonable explanation when I asked.

  The reason of this letter is to ask if you know this woman as she clearly knows of you and Victoria, perhaps she was once a friend of yours. I am sorry but I had a Private Investigator take some photographs of you and your fine son, when Charlotte saw them she was outraged and made threats against you. As I have never seen this woman in your company I wondered if perhaps she was a work colleague. I need to know who she is, why she hates you so much.

  I was hoping that you might come for a visit with Charles and your son. Perhaps then I could introduce you to Charlotte let her see that you are not a threat to her. Maybe then I can get my sanity back and put my life in order. Please say you will come, I miss you all terribly.

  With deep affection,

  Your brother Richard.

  He read the letter and put it in an envelope and wrote out the address, he looked down at it, was he doing the right thing involving Sarah in this way, perhaps she could shed some light on this obvious dislike Charlotte had for her. One thing was for sure, he must talk to Charlotte and try to reason with her and show her that Sarah was no threat to her.

  He carried the letter into the drawing room and placed it in the bureau he would post it in the morning when he collected his papers. He poured himself a whisky and drank it down in one, the amber fluid burning his throat. He looked into the empty glass and poured himself another large measure and went and sat by the fire, why did life have to be so complicated. He sat and reminisced about his past, how as a child he would slide down the banisters, his first horse and riding lessons, making fun of his sister and going off to college, meeting Charles, he was such a good friend, the best. He remembered Sarah’s party and the realisation that he was in love with her best friend, Victoria. He stood and poured himself another drink and then carried the glass and the bottle back to th
e armchair. He emptied the glass in one gulp and immediately poured himself another. Life had been so good then, he had everything to look forward to. Sooner or later his father would have given him control of the estate, he and Victoria would have been married and they would have had children just as Sarah had done. They would all have been living here in this big house, happy, content. He looked around the room and realised how dull everything looked and poured himself another whisky. He lowered his head and sobbed.

  Charlotte stood and watched him drinking, she loved him so much but at times he could be infuriating. He didn’t need his silly sister, he had her and she would do anything to take care of him. She looked down at the sobbing man, she had said some spiteful things, he was so overwrought with grief at their parting but he would forgive her, he loved her, didn’t he?

  She stood by his side and stroked his hair. “Richard, I’m sorry for all those dreadful things I said, you’ve had too much to drink, come to bed with me before you collapse down here.”

  Richard in his drunken stupor held out his hand for Charlotte’s and together they climbed the stairs. In his room he flopped on the bed and Charlotte helped him to remove his clothes. Together they lay in each others arms beneath the cool sheets. Soon Richard was snoring.

  Charlotte left the bedroom and entered the study, she had seen him writing a letter to Sarah, she must find it and destroy it. In anger she threw things to the floor as she searched, emptying drawers as she went but it was nowhere. Leaving the mess behind her she went to the drawing room and flung open the door, she stood with her hands on her hips looking around the room. Now where could he have put the damn thing? She spotted the bureau and rushed to it, sending tables smashing to the floor. She flung open the top and rifled through the papers flinging them to the floor in her haste. One by one the drawers were pulled out and emptied, she frantically scattered the contents on the floor and searched but there was no sign of the letter. She pulled all the cushions from the chairs and from the settee and flung them across the room, she was getting annoyed. She sat in the middle of the floor, he couldn’t have posted it already, perhaps he had changed his mind and torn it up, yes, that was the only solution. She stood in the doorway and looked at the mayhem she had caused. The first morning light was creeping through the windows, she realised it would soon be daylight.

 

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