‘What if what he wants is Verity?’
We looked at each other – Lara and I now sharing Jayne’s fear.
‘Then we protect her,’ Lara said at last.
Neither Jayne nor I asked her how. We were both too scared that she may not have an answer.
‘So what do we do?’ I asked after more silence.
‘We find out all we can about this place and the people who lived here,’ Lara said. ‘We do our research – books, the museum, and is there a ghost walk or anything? This is a tourist village, there must be a ghost walk.’
‘Yes, there is,’ I said. ‘But I don’t think they’re running at the moment, we may have to wait until the New Year.’
‘Well, I’ll get stuck into the books and Google,’ Jayne said. ‘You two can do the ghost walk, then all of us can go to the museum again – I’ll find out when it’s open over Christmas and the New Year, and if we can access their library.’
‘Oh ghost walk, ghost walk! Can I go on the ghost walk, pleeaasse?’
‘Hans, are you sure?’ Lara turned to greet her daughter as Grasper hurled himself at Jayne. ‘It might be scary.’
‘I’m not scared of stupid ghosts. Anyway, Grasper will look after us.’
‘Well, okay, if you’re sure, but tell me if you get too scared and Auntie Verity will bring you back here, okay? I need to stay to the end of it, I don’t want to miss any of the stories.’
‘I won’t get scared, Mummy, promise. Can we go tonight, can we? Can we?’
‘No, not tonight, Hans, we’ll have to find out when the next one is. Anyway we’re all a bit tired, we’ll just have a nice evening together and an early night.’
‘Okay, Mum.’ Hannah looked crestfallen. ‘Do you promise we will do it, though?’
‘I promise.’
‘Hans,’ Jayne said, ‘did you see the birds when you came in, are they still there?’
‘What birds?’
Jayne breathed a visible sigh of relief.
‘Mum, what’s Grasper doing?’
We turned and looked. Hackles up, growling – something I couldn’t remember hearing him do before – Grasper had placed himself between us and the cold spot Jayne and Lara had found earlier. He did not like whatever it was he could see.
25.
Harry stood back watching Uriah Barraclough – the master stonemason and the man he was now apprenticed to – and John Brown, the sexton, push the tiny coffin into its final resting place within the Brontë family vault underneath the church.
Opened just four years ago for Maria, the parson’s wife, ten-year-old Elizabeth had now joined her mother and elder sister,
Her father, Patrick, remained stoic and calm, but Harry had already seen enough pain etched into too many faces not to recognise the same in his.
And no wonder. When his wife died he had been left with six children to care for. Now, consumption had taken the two eldest within little more than a month. What would become of those surviving: Charlotte, Branwell, Emily and Anne?
Harry risked a small smile at Emily, but she turned her head. He kicked himself. It was hardly the place for a smile.
He concentrated on watching Mr Barraclough and Mr Brown carefully secure Elizabeth’s carved memorial in place next to those of her sisters, then they stood back and the Reverend Brontë cleared his throat to speak.
***
I woke with a sob. Those poor girls. That poor family.
I rose, went to the loo, washed my face, and took a long drink of water. Maybe Jayne had been right and I should have joined them at the White Lion after all.
No. I shook my head to emphasise the thought. This was my new home, my new business, my new life. I could not run away from a few dreams. I pushed thoughts of caresses, pushes, orbs, cold spots and Grasper’s odd behaviour out of my mind and went back to bed, accidentally on purpose leaving the bathroom light on and pretending not to notice.
***
Harry found Emily in one of her favourite places; the little waterfall only half a mile up the moors, over the clapper bridge. She was sitting on a rock and staring at the summer trickle of water, her new puppy, Grasper, at her feet. Harry suspected she would find a wild winter torrent more to her taste today.
‘How do,’ he said, and she grunted.
‘It’s hard,’ Harry tried again, ‘when a sister dies. I remember when our Rebekah went last year, it were like a light had gone out of the world.’
‘Two,’ Emily said.
‘Beg pardon?’
‘Two sisters. Two sisters died. Two sisters in their coffins. Two sisters in the vault. Two, two, two, two!’
She jumped to her feet and ran through the heather – her sure feet jumping from tussock to tussock as she somehow kept her skirts away from the grasping branches of the tough, hardy plants.
The inevitable happened and she fell.
‘Emily!’ Harry cried. He had been following as quickly as he could, but heather was not easy to run through – poor little Grasper had to bound in a series of jumps to make any headway.
Harry reached down to help his friend up, and she kicked and scratched. ‘Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, get away!’
He sat next to her and stared, waiting for her to calm down.
‘I still miss Rebekah,’ he said. ‘And Charlie, and John.’
‘Who’s John?’
‘The babby. Died before he got a name really, but I allus think of him as John. Don’t know why.’
Emily sat up. ‘I remember Rebekah. She cried when Black Tom caught a chaffinch.’ Black Tom was Emily’s cat. Even by age seven she’d collected a menagerie of stray and injured animals, not all of them four-legged. ‘I liked her.’
Harry nodded. ‘The consumption took her too.’
Emily pulled Grasper on to her lap and tugged on his ears in affection. ‘It was that school. That school killed them. I’m not going back, neither’s Charlotte. They can’t make us.’
Neither spoke, knowing full well that Emily and Charlotte had no choice in the matter.
‘I want to be here,’ Emily said. ‘Nowhere else. I just want to be here. In Haworth, on the moors. Here.’
Harry shuffled sideways and put his arm around her. ‘I want thee to stay here too,’ he said. Emily relaxed into his embrace and sobbed her grief for her beloved sisters.
Harry was just glad she couldn’t see the tears on his own face.
26.
‘Morning, ladies. Happy Christmas Eve,’ I said as I opened the door to my friends. We all looked up, startled at the thrash of wings, and a dark cloud lifted to the sky.
Hannah ducked as the rooks rose overhead and all three dashed into safety as Grasper raced around in circles, barking at the birds.
‘I think you’re right about that pigeon netting, Lara,’ I said.
‘You might need spikes to deter that lot,’ Jayne said.
‘I’ll get Vikram on to it as soon as they’re back at work,’ I promised.
‘Ugh,’ Hannah said. ‘One’s messed on me!’
We laughed then immediately sobered as the child neared tears.
‘Don’t worry, Hans, it’s supposed to be good luck,’ Lara said. ‘Take your jacket off and we’ll give it a good wash.’
‘Yes, the new washing machine is working,’ I said. ‘Come on up and I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘Oh goody, I’m ready for a coffee,’ Jayne said, and Lara and I laughed.
‘When are you not?’ I spluttered.
‘You know, when we came down this morning, the breakfast staff had a pot ready brewed and waiting for her.’
‘Well-trained,’ Jayne said.
‘Terrified of you more like – you’ve only been here a couple of days and you have your name on a coffee pot!’
We laughed again – even Hannah – the tension broken.
‘They had a cup-to-go ready for me when I took Grasper out first thing,’ Jayne admitted,
‘with two extra shots.’
‘Do you bleed red or coffee brown?’ Lara asked sweetly.
‘Definitely red,’ Jayne answered, ‘but the nurses swore they could smell coffee brewing last time I donated blood!’
Laughing, we reached my rooms and I filled the kettle.
‘Guess which room Lara and Hannah have,’ Jayne said after she’d taken a scalding sip.
‘No,’ I said. ‘You’re not in Room Seven?’
‘Yep,’ Lara said, hugging Hannah to her. ‘Aunt Jayne told us all about the stories at breakfast.’ She glared at Jayne. ‘But it’s a lovely room, isn’t it, Hans?’
Hannah nodded but said nothing.
‘Come on, give me that jacket – I’ll rinse it off and get it in the wash,’ I said. ‘You can borrow one of mine if you want to take Grasper out later, okay, Hans?’
Lara handed me the jacket as Hannah nodded and slid to the floor to play with Grasper, looking a bit more cheerful.
‘What the hell is that noise?’ Jayne asked, lifting the sash window and leaning out. ‘Oh, Christ!’
‘What is it?’ I joined her at the window, closed my eyes and sighed.
Antony’s car was blocking the narrow lane, and neither he nor the man trying to drive in the opposite direction were giving way.
‘That’s all I bloody need,’ I muttered.
‘Do you want us to go and give you some privacy?’ Lara asked.
‘No – thanks, Lara, but no. You are invited, he is not; you are the ones I want to spend my Christmas with, not him. He is not chasing you out of my home, no way.’
She nodded, but cast Hannah a worried glance.
I looked out of the window again. The men had sorted out who owned which bit of the road, Antony had parked up, and was hammering at the door.
‘I’d best go and see what he wants,’ I said, ‘before he upsets the rest of the neighbours.’
***
‘Happy Christmas!’ Antony beamed and held out a box.
I looked at him, stared at the box – unwrapped – for a moment, then lifted my eyes back to his. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I just wanted to wish you well,’ he said. ‘It is the season of goodwill after all.’
I arched my eyebrows at that.
‘It’s a Christmas tree.’
‘What?’
He waggled the box. ‘Just a small one. I didn’t think you’d have had time for decorations or anything and thought it might brighten the place up for you. First Christmas ...’ He faltered and reddened.
‘First Christmas alone, you mean?’
He cast his eyes down briefly then gave me a small smile. ‘For both of us. I just hoped, well ...’
‘Yes?’
‘Well, that we could start afresh, you know, put the divorce behind us and move forward.’
I stared at him. ‘You want us to move forward? What – get back together?’
‘No.’ He squeezed his eyes shut a moment then said softly, ‘No, I don’t mean that, I know we’re over. But we shared a lot of years together, a lot of laughs, and yes a lot of tears, but we had some good times. I just don’t want us to be strangers.’
I nodded in understanding, but wasn’t ready to respond to that. ‘You’d better come in.’
He looked around the lobby, horrified at the mess and all the work that still needed to be done.
‘I’ve only been in a couple of weeks,’ I said, angry with myself for feeling defensive. ‘The build team have worked like Trojans to create this chaos.’
He disguised his mocking smile with a sage nod. ‘When do you open?’
‘Easter, all being well. There’ll be a lounge and breakfast room down here, plus a bedroom through there, and a kitchen of course.’ I led the way to the stairs, pointing out the rooms as I went.
‘Will it be ready in time?’
‘Early days yet, but I don’t see why not.’ I tapped the wooden bannister three times for luck, then started to climb, before stooping to pick up an iPad from the next tread. I looked at it in confusion for a moment, I was sure it hadn’t been there on the way down. ‘The electricians are more or less done, and the plumbing and partition walls for the en-suites started. As long as everyone comes back to work after Christmas and don’t let the ghosts scare them off, I’ll be fine.’
‘Ghosts? You’re kidding, aren’t you?’
I shook my head, annoyed at myself for opening up to him, even a little.
He seemed happy to drop the spectral subject though, and opened one of the doors I’d indicated as we passed. ‘Good-sized room this.’ He crossed to the window and peered out. ‘Oh, is that the parsonage?’
‘Yes, great view, isn’t it?’
‘One of the best.’ He walked towards me and I backed out of the doorway and continued up the next flight of stairs to my private quarters, Antony following close behind, still carrying the box.
‘And these are my rooms,’ I said, stopping in and turning just in time to catch his look of dismay as he spotted Lara and Jayne.
27.
‘Oh, hello,’ he said to the cold glares he was greeted with, then glanced at me. ‘Not a Christmas alone after all then.’
‘No, I’m not alone,’ I replied. ‘You can put the tree down over there.’
‘Tree? Is it a Christmas tree, Uncle Tony?’ Hannah asked, and I winced at the ‘uncle’.
‘It is, do you want to help me put it up?’
‘We can do that later,’ Lara said.
‘Of course. I can’t stay long anyway, I’m on a split shift, and the restaurant’s full tonight.’
‘Would you like a coffee?’ I asked, depositing the iPad on the table.
He glanced at Lara and Jayne, then shrugged. ‘Sure, why not?’
I glared at Jayne to warn her not to answer that question, and went to fill the kettle.
‘You could have told me they were here,’ Antony hissed in my ear and I jumped. I hadn’t heard him follow me.
‘Why? Our lives are separate now, Antony. I don’t need to run things past you or check with you before I make a decision or plan, or invite my friends to stay.’
‘I know, but you could have warned me downstairs, I wouldn’t have come up.’
‘Why, too ashamed to face us?’ Jayne approached us.
Antony said nothing.
‘Hannah and I are going to take Grasper for his walk,’ Lara said, and I smiled at her in apology, recognising her desire to get Hannah away from the souring atmosphere and threatening argument.
‘Check in my wardrobe for a jacket for her,’ I said. ‘My fleece should be in there.’
‘Thanks, Auntie Verity. Bye, Uncle Tony.’
‘Bye Hannah, happy Christmas.’
She ran over and gave Antony a quick hug before Lara could stop her, then turned her attention to the increasingly agitated Irish terrier. Come on, Grasper, walkies!’
Hannah and the dog pounded down the stairs as Lara collected my fleece, looked at Antony but said nothing, then followed her daughter.
Silence filled The Rookery, and we sipped coffee.
‘You’re right, Jayne,’ Antony said at last. ‘I am ashamed, I deeply regret the way I hurt Verity.’
Jayne snorted. ‘Only because you were caught. How could you do it? Lie and cheat all that time?’
A red flush of anger crept up Antony’s neck and jaw. ‘I don’t have to justify myself to you. I’ve already been through this with Verity. We’re divorced, I’ve paid for my mistakes, just leave it.’
‘Just leave it? Are you kidding? Lara and I were the ones who picked up the pieces while you indulged in your fantasy life.’
‘I’m not doing this with you, Jayne. It’s between me and Verity.’
‘No, it isn’t. You mess with her, you mess with me.’
‘Jayne, please, it’s all over and done with. Leave it,’ I said.
‘No, I will not leave it!’ She slammed he
r mug down and looked at me, ‘Don’t you remember what it was like, Verity? You were a wreck.’
‘Jayne, please,’ I said, glancing at Antony in embarrassment. I did not want him to hear this.
The twitch of his mouth sent a chill down my back. Was he amused? Pleased? Proud? My eyes narrowed and I clenched my jaw in an effort to refuse my emotions.
‘And what the hell were you thinking, turning up here, at Verity’s new home, new life, and on Christmas Eve? Haven’t you done enough? Can’t you just stick to your cheap tarts and leave Verity alone to get on with her life?’
‘We broke up.’
‘I bloody know you broke up! She found you out and kicked you out for God’s sake, that’s hardly news.’
‘You broke up? With her?’ I interrupted Jayne. If anyone was going to argue with my ex-husband, it should be me, not her, however passionately, and I was letting the side down.
Antony nodded and a feeling of vindictive smug satisfaction spread through me – echoed on Jayne’s face with the ugliest smile I had ever seen her pull.
‘So did she check your phone too?’
Antony paled but said nothing.
‘And so you’ve come crawling back to Verity,’ Jayne sneered. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything better from you. Did you think she’d warm your bed for you while you trawled the Net for your next bint?’
‘I thought nothing of the sort,’ Antony retorted. ‘I just came to wish her a happy Christmas.’
‘I am here you know,’ I said, my emotions finally under control.
‘Well, you’re too late,’ Jayne said in triumph as if neither of us had spoken. ‘She’s already moved on.’
‘What?’ Antony and I said together.
‘Am I interrupting?’
I whirled round to see Vikram standing in the doorway.
‘I – er – I’ve misplaced my tablet,’ he said into the sudden silence. ‘I need it to work out the wages. I must have left it here somewhere.’
‘Hi, Vikram, sorry,’ I managed to say, quite calmly. ‘This is Antony, my ex-husband. Um, yes, I found it on the stairs, I meant to ring you.’ I crossed over to the table to pass it to him.
Parliament of Rooks Page 10
