Kirkland Revels

by Виктория Холт

  I looked at her fiercely and she recoiled from me.

  ” I … I did now’t to ‘em. You’ve always said that you didn’t want them drawn….”

  “Who else would have been here?” I asked.

  ” No one else, madam. I always do your room myself as Mrs. Grantley said I should.”

  ” You must have drawn them,” I said. ” How otherwise could they have been drawn?”

  She backed away from me. ” But I didn’t, madam. I didn’t touch them.”

  ” You’ve forgotten. You must have forgotten.”

  ” No, madam, I’m sure I didn’t.”

  ” You did,” I answered unreasonably. ” You may go now.”

  She went, her face stricken. The relationship between us had always before been so pleasant, and it was unlike me to behave as I had done.

  When she had gone I stood staring at the door and Sarah’s words came back to me. ” You’re angry because you’re frightened.”

  Yes, that was it. The sight of the drawn curtains had frightened me.

  Why? What was so strange about drawn curtains?

  The answer to that was simple. It was because I had been reminded of that other terrifying occasion.

  After all anyone might have drawn the curtains . to shake out the dust, say . and then forgotten them and left them drawn. Why could not Mary-Jane have admitted to that?

  Simply because that had not been the case. Mary Jane had not drawn the curtains. She would have remembered if she had, because I had always insisted that I would not have them drawn about the bed while I slept.

  I was trembling slightly. I was thinking of it all again, that sudden waking in, the night . that awful apparition and then turning to pursue, only to be faced by a wall of blue silk. It had reminded me, that was all, and it had frightened me. But I was already asking myself whether it was possible that I was not forgotten, that the weeks of peace were now over and new terrors were being devised for me.

  I had been angry because I was afraid; but I had no right to turn that anger against Mary Jane

  I felt very contrite and went at once to the bell. Mary Jane came immediately in answer to my summons, but her bright smile was missing and she did not meet my eye.

  ” Mary-Jane,” I said, ” I’m sorry.”

  She looked at me in surprise.

  ” I had no right to say what I did. If you had drawn the curtains you would have said so. I’m afraid I was overwrought.”

  She looked expectant and still bewildered. Then she said:

  ” Oh … madam, it’s of no account.”

  ” It is, Mary-Jane,” I insisted. ” It was unjust, and I hate injustice. Go and bring the candles. It’s growing dark.”

  ” Yes, madam.” She went out of the room happier than when she had left it a few minutes before.

  By the time she came back with the candles I decided to be frank with her. I was anxious that she should not think that I was the sort of woman who vented her anger on other people when she was suffering from some personal irritation. I wanted her to know the reason.

  ” Put them over the fireplace, and on the dressing-table. That’s much brighter. The room looks different already. Mary-Jane … when I saw those bed curtains drawn I was reminded of that occasion….”

  ” I remember, madam.”

  ” And I thought someone was playing another trick. So I wanted it to have been you who drew them. That would have been such a comforting explanation.”

  ” But it wasn’t, madam, I couldn’t say it was if it was’nt.”

  ” Of course you couldn’t. So I’m left wondering who did it … and why.”

  ” Anyone could have come in, madam. You don’t lock the doors during the day.”

  ” No, anybody could have done it. But … perhaps it’s not important.

  Perhaps I’m too sensitive. It may be due to my condition.”

  ” Our Etty isn’t quite like she used to be, madam.”

  ” I believe women are often so.”

  ” Yes. She used to like to hear Jim sing. He’s got quite a voice, Jim has. But now she can’t abide it; she can’t bear what she calls noise of any sort.”

  “Well, that’s how we are, Mary-Jane. It’s as well to be prepared for our strangeness. I’ve a dress here which I thought might do for you. I can’t get into it any more.”

  I brought out a dark green gabardine dress trimmed with red and green tartan, and Mary-Jane’s eyes glistened at the sight of it.

  ” Why, madam, it’s grand. And it’s sure to fit.”

  ” Then take it, Mary-Jane. I’d like you to have it.”

  “Oh, thank you, madam.”

  She was a gentle creature. I believe she was as pleased that the pleasantness of our relationship had been restored as she was to have the dress.

  When she had gone I felt that some of her pleasure remained behind her.

  I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the looking-glass. I looked young, and my green eyes were brilliant. Candlelight is always so flattering.

  But even as I looked I found I was peering beyond my own reflection; I was trying to probe the shadows in the room. I was expecting some shape to materialise behind me.

  Fear had come back.

  That night I slept badly. I kept waking to stare about my bed. I kept fancying that I heard the swish of silk. But I was mistaken. The curtains remained as I had left them and I saw no more apparitions in my room.

  But who had drawn the curtains? I did not want to ask, for fear of attracting the suspicious glances again. But I was on the alert.

  It was only a few days later when it was discovered that the warming-pan was missing from my room.

  I had not noticed that it was gone, so could not say exactly how long it had been absent from its place on the wall over the oak chest in my bedroom.

  I was sitting up in bed while Mary-Jane brought my breakfast-tray to me. I had taken to having breakfast in bed on Dr. Smith’s orders, and I must say that I was ready enough to indulge myself in this way, because, on account of the disturbed nights I was having, I almost invariably felt delicate in the mornings.

  “Why, Mary-Jane,” I said, my eyes straying to the wall, “what have you done with the warming-pan?”

  Mary-Jane set down my tray and looked round. Her astonishment was obvious.

  ” Oh, madam,” she said, ‘” it’s gone.”

  ” Did it fall or something?”

  ” That I couldn’t say, madam. I didn’t take it away.” She went over to the wall. ” The hook’s still there, any road.”

  ” Then I wonder who …” I’ll ask Mrs. Grantley. She might know what has happened to it. I rather liked it there. It was so bright and shining. “

  I ate my breakfast without giving much thought to the warming-pan. At that stage I did not realise that it had any connection with the strange things which were happening to me.

  It was that afternoon before I again thought of it. I was having tea with Ruth and she was talking about Christmas in the old days and how different it was now particularly this year when we were living so quietly on account of Gabriel’s death.

  ” It was rather fun,” she told me. ” We used to take a wagon out to bring the yule log home; and there was the holly to gather too. We usually had several people staying in the house at Christmas. This time it can’t possibly be more than family. I suppose Aunt Hagar will come over from Kelly Grange with Simon. They generally do, and stay two nights. She’s almost certain to manage that journey.”

  I felt rather pleased at the prospect of Christmas, and wondered when I could go into Harrogate, Keighly or Ripon to buy some presents. It seemed incredible that it was only last Christmas when I was in Dijon.

  Rather lonely those Christmases had been because most of my companions had gone home to their families and there were usually no more than four or five of us who remained at the school. But we had made the most of the festivities and those Christmases had been enjoyable.

  ” I must fi
nd out if Aunt Hagar will be able to make the journey. I must tell them to air her bed thoroughly; last time she declared we were putting her into damp sheets.”

  That reminded me.

  “By the way,” I said, “what has happened to the warming-pan which was in my room?”

  She looked puzzled.

  ” It’s no longer there,” I explained. ” Mary-Jane doesn’t know what has become of it.”

  ” Warming-pan in your room? Oh … has it gone?”

  ” So you didn’t know. I thought perhaps you’d given orders for someone to remove it.” She shook her head. ” It must have been one of the servants,” she said. ” I’ll find out. You may be needing it when the weather turns, and we can’t expect this mildness to continue long now.”

  ” Thanks,” I answered. ” I’m thinking of going into Harrogate or Ripon soon. I have some shopping to do.”

  ” We might all go together. I want to go, and Luke was saying something about taking Damaris in to do some Christmas shopping.”

  ” Do let us. I should enjoy that.”

  Next day I met her on the stairs, when I was on the point of going out for a short walk because the rain had ceased for a while and the sun was shining.

  ” Going for a walk?” she asked. ” It’s pleasant out. Quite warm. By the way, I cannot discover what happened to yom warming-pan.”

  ” Well that’s strange.”

  ” I expect someone moved it and forgot.” She gave a light laugh and looked at me somewhat intently, I thought. But I went out and it was such a lovely morning that I immediately forgot all about the missing warming-pan. There were still a few flowers left in the hedgerows such as woundwort and shepherd’s purse, and although I did not go to the moor I thought I saw in the distance a spray of gorse, golden in the pale sunshine.

  Remembering instructions, I curtailed my walk, and as I turned back to the house I glanced towards the ruins. It seemed quite a long time since I had been to the Abbey. I knew I could never go there now without remembering the monk, so I stayed away, which showed, of course, that my protestations of bravery were partly false.

  I stood under an oak tree and found myself studying the patterns on the bark. I remembered my father’s telling me that the ancient Britons used to think that marks on the trunk of the oak were the outward signs of the supernatural being who inhabited the tree. I traced the pattern with my finger. it was easy to understand how such fancies had grown.

  It was so easy to harbour fancies.

  As I stood there I heard a sudden mocking cry above me, and looked up startled, expecting something terrifying. It was only a green woodpecker.

  I hurried into the house.

  When I went to the dining-room that evening for dinner I found Matthew, Sarah and Luke there; but Ruth was absent.

  When I entered they were asking where she was.

  ” Not like her to be late,” said Sir Matthew.

  ” Ruth has a great deal to do,” Sarah put in. ” And she was talking about Christmas and wondering which rooms Hagar and Simon would want if they came for a short holiday.”

  ” Hagar will have the room which was once hers,” said Matthew. ” Simon will have the one he has always had. So why should she be concerned?”

  “I think she’s a little worried about Hagar. You know what Hagar is.

  She’ll have her old nose into every corner and be telling us that the place is not kept as it was when Father was alive. “

  ” Hagar’s an interfering busybody and always was,” growled Matthew. “

  If she doesn’t like what she sees here, then she can do the other thing. We can manage very well without her opinions and advice.”

  Ruth came in then, looking slightly flushed.

  ” We’ve been wondering what had become of you,” Matthew told her.

  ” Of all the ridiculous things …” she began. She looked round, the company helplessly.

  “I went into … Gabriel’s room and noticed something under the coverlet there. What do you think it was?”

  I stared at her and felt the colour rushing to my cheeks, and I was fighting hard to control my feelings, because I knew.

  “The warming-pan from your room!” She was looking straight at me, quizzically and intent. ” Whoever could have put it there?”

  “How extraordinary!” I heard myself stammer.

  ” Well, we’ve found it. That’s where it was all the time.” She turned to the others. ” Catherine had missed the warming- pan from her room.

  She thought I’d told one of the servants to remove it. Who on earth could have put it into the bed there? “

  ” We ought to find out,” I said sharply.

  “I asked the servants. They quite clearly knew nothing about it.”

  ” Someone must have put it there.” I heard my voice rise unnaturally high.

  Ruth shrugged her shoulders.

  ” But we must find out,” I insisted.

  “It’s someone playing these tricks. Don’t you see … it’s the same sort of thing as the curtains being drawn.”

  ” Curtains?”

  I was annoyed with myself because the drawing of the bed curtains had been a matter known only to the one who had done it, and Mary-Jane and myself. Now I should have to explain. I did so briefly.

  ” Who drew the curtains?” screeched Sarah. ” Who put the warming-pan in Gabriel’s bed? And it was your bed, too, wasn’t it, Catherine.

  Yours and Gabriel’s. “

  ” I wish I knew!” I cried vehemently.

  “Someone must have been rather absent-minded,” said Luke lightly.

  “I don’t think it was absent-mindedness,” I retorted.

  “But, Catherine,” put in Ruth patiently, “why should anyone want to pull your bed curtains about your bed or remove the warming-pan?”

  ” That’s what / should like to know.”

  “Let’s forget all about it.” said Matthew.

  “That which was lost is found.”

  ” But why … why …?” I insisted.

  ” You are getting excited, my dear,” whispered Ruth.

  “I want to know the explanation of these strange things which are happening in my room.”

  “The duckling is getting cold,” said Sir Matthew. He came to me and slipped his arm through mine. ” Never mind about the warming-pan, my dear. We shall know why it was moved … all in good time.”

  ” Yes,” said Luke, ” all in good time.” And he kept his eyes on my face as he spoke, and I could see the speculation there.

  “We’d better start,” said Ruth, and as they sat down at the table I had no alternative but to do the same; but my appetite had deserted me. I kept asking myself what the purpose was behind these strange happenings which seemed in some way to be directed towards me.

  I was going to find out. I must find out.

  Before the month was out we were invited to the vicarage to discuss the last-minute plans for the imminent ” Bring and Buy Sale.”

  ” Mrs. Cartwright always gets the wind in her tail at such times,” said Luke. ” This is nothing to the June garden fete or her hideous pa gents

  ” Mrs. Cartwright is an energetic lady,” said Ruth, ” possessing all the qualities to make her an excellent wife for the vicar.”

  ” Does she expect me to go?” I asked.

  ” Of course she does. She’d be hurt if you didn’t. You will come?

  It’s only a short walk, but if you like we can drive there.”

  ” I feel perfectly fit to walk,” I said quickly.

  “Then we’ll go along. It’s an excellent opportunity for you to meet some of our neighbours. Now that we’re in mourning, the vicarage rather than the Revels has become the centre of our village. In the past, meetings were held here.”

  We set out about ten-thirty, and in a quarter of an hour had arrived at the vicarage, a pleasant grey stone house close to the church. We joined one or two people going in the same direction and Ruth introduced me. I w
as studied with a certain amount of curiosity because they all knew that I was the wife whom Gabriel had married somewhat hastily and whom he had left pregnant after two weeks of marriage.

  They were summing me up, which I accepted as normal in the circumstances. I expected there were some of them who believed that shortcomings in myself may have been the reason for Gabriel’s death.

  Mrs. Cartwright, whom I had of course already met, was a large, somewhat florid woman with a powerful personality. She assembled us all in her drawing-room, which seemed small but only because I was accustomed to the rooms at the Revels, and here morning coffee with biscuits was being served by a maid.

  I was conducted to the window from which I could see the churchyard. I could just make out the Rockwell vault with the wrought-iron work above it. and my thoughts immediately went to Gabriel.

  When all the guests were present Mrs. Cartwright addressed us in her booming voice and told us of the need for speed. The sale must be in time to give people opportunities of buying their Christmas presents at it. ” So please ransack your attics, and any little objet of art will be appreciated. Perhaps it is something which you no longer value.

  That does not mean that no one else will. Please try to bring in your offerings before the day. It does give us time to decide how to price them. And on the day … do come and buy. Remember it is for the good of the church and the roof does need attention. As you all know, there’s death watch beetle up there in the rafters. I know you will help. But the need is immediate, ladies. Has anyone any suggestions?”

  There were some, and Mrs. Cartwright considered them and asked for counter opinions. It was all very businesslike and I admired our vicar’s wife for her energy.

  When the business of the meeting had been settled she came and sat in the window with me and told me how glad she was to see me there.

  ” It is wonderful to see you looking so well and to know that there is to be an addition to the family. I know that Sir Matthew is delighted absolutely delighted. It is a comfort to him in the circumstances….”

  She was one of those women who carry the whole of a conversation for the sheer joy of talking, and a better talker than a listener, I discovered. ” Such a great deal of work to be done. The people here are so good … so helpful … but between ourselves they are rather slow in taking action … if you know what I mean. One has to prod … prod … to get anything done. This sale of work will not produce half the profit unless it takes place well before Christmas. I do hope you will be able to bring us a little something . and you will come and buy, won’t you? Some little thing … just anything…. More than one, of course, if you have it. Anything … but the more valuable the better. Forgive me for begging so persistently.”