8.
‘That was delicious,’ Vikram says as he pushes his chair away from the table to give his belly a bit more room. ‘Can’t beat a proper homemade apple pie.’
I catch the glance between Jayne and Lara and hide my smile. I wonder which supermarket it came from, whichever one it was would be seeing a sharp rise in apple pie sales.
‘Would anyone like coffee or are you happy on wine?’
I catch another glance between my two best friends and my heart sinks. Now what are they planning?
‘Let’s stick to alcohol,’ Lara says. ‘At least till we show you this.’
‘Show me what?’
‘You remember the CCTV Sparkly had such fun and games installing?’ Vikram asks.
I nod, though in truth had forgotten all about it until now.
‘While you were in the hospital we—’
‘We watched it,’ Lara cuts Vikram off. ‘We needed to find any clues at all about what happened, why both of you fell unconscious that night.’
‘And you found something?’
‘I’ll say we did,’ Mo butts in.
‘It’s all set up behind reception to play back,’ Jayne adds. ‘Do you want to see it?’
I glance at William as he flicks his gaze to me, and as one we push our chairs back and move towards Reception.
‘I think that’s a yes,’ Vikram says, smiling at Jayne.
Our friends gather around us, and I take hold of the mouse.
‘You just need to click there.’ Vikram points to the arrow icon.
***
Lara leads the way out of my living area into camera shot, Jayne hot on her heels, Vikram doing his best to protect them with the chair.
‘Where’s Verity?’
‘And William?’
The three look at each other in terror, then Vikram draws a deep breath, warns Lara and Jayne to stay back and opens the door a crack.
Squinting, peering into the dim room, he steps back in surprise and the door swings open, presenting a view of the living and dining area.
The birds have all found a perch, covering almost every surface – except for one area around the table, an area they all seem to be watching; maybe guarding.
William and I are in a heap on the floor, clutching each other, neither moving, with two orbs spinning and dancing above us.
‘Will? Will, mate, can you hear me?’ Vikram edges into the room, but the birds hold their perches.
Jayne and Lara follow, calling my name.
I don’t answer, and the birds don’t take flight.
***
‘Rewind that, will you?’ William says, leaning forward on his seat. ‘What just happened there?’
‘Did you see it too, Verity?’ Lara asks.
Shocked into silence by what I saw, I nod.
Jayne rewinds the footage, saying, ‘Lara saw it straight away, I had to rewatch it a couple of times before I could see.’
She clicks on Play, and we lean forward as far as we can to get the best view of the screen.
***
The orbs whirling and dancing above us part, then disappear. One zooms into William’s chest, and the other into my forehead. They do not reappear.
Vikram reaches our prone bodies and shakes William’s shoulder.
No reaction.
He places two fingers on William’s neck.
‘There’s a pulse. Verity too, but they’re not responding. I think you’d better call for an ambulance.’
9.
‘Well that was less than subtle,’ William says as the two couples make their excuses and go upstairs.
‘Not really.’ I laugh.
‘No,’ he agrees. ‘Well, at least things are starting to make sense now, kind of.’
‘Yes, that footage is pretty unequivocal. Those orbs were Harry and Martha.’
‘Must have been. But why would they do this to us?’
I have no answer for that, and we sit in awkward silence while we both scrabble for something to say.
‘She did finish Wuthering Heights, you know. Martha,’ I say, at last.
‘Did she?’
‘She knew she got it wrong, jumped to false conclusions. That you, that Harry, wasn’t Heathcliff.’
‘Hmm.’
‘She never forgave herself.’
‘Good.’
‘She was terrified of losing Harry; of what might be. Life was so fragile back then.’
‘Still is.’
I pause, wondering how to draw William out and get him talking. ‘Who do you think it was?’
‘What?’
‘That Emily loved so fiercely.’
William smiled. ‘Emily did everything fiercely, why not love too?’
‘But who?’ I persist.
‘I reckon it wasn’t a who at all, she certainly didn’t love Harry like that. I reckon it was a what, a where.’
Confused, I pull a face. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I mean, that’s how she loved the moors: intensely, passionately, with deep abandon, even when the weather closed in, and when they turned on her and nearly killed her. Remember the bog burst?’
I nod.
‘It never stopped her going back up there. The animals she helped – saved from the moors – they hurt her sometimes, bit or clawed her, but she never minded.’
‘And when she was away from the moors, she got ill,’ I say, remembering.
‘Aye, she used to say that if she was ever forced to live anywhere else, she would die.’
‘No wonder she never married.’
‘She was only thirty when she died, she had time yet.’
‘Not in those days,’ I remind him. ‘People married young ’cause they died young too, especially in Haworth.’
‘Aye, you’ve a point there.’
‘Heath,’ I say. ‘It’s another word for moor.’
‘Aye, and there are a few cliffs up there too.’ William grins. ‘She did things her own way, did Emily. One of a kind, that girl, always was.’
We lapse into silence.
I regard him for a few moments, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. I decide to tackle this head on.
‘You’re scared to be alone with me, aren’t you?’
‘No. Well, yes, a little bit. I look at you and can see Martha, standing at the top of those stairs, staring after me. It’s ... bewildering, and frightening. History has a habit of repeating itself.’
‘It’s already tried, and failed,’ I admit. ‘It’s done, history is history.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Antony.’ I reply, then heave a breath to bolster my resolve. ‘When I found out about what he was up to ...’ I falter, and William reaches out to take my hand. He meets my eyes, and I decide to believe in the encouragement and reassurance I see there.
‘When I found out about the other women, the catfishing.’ I pause again, then sigh. I have to do this or it will never go away. ‘I was so hurt, so angry. I felt so betrayed, so humiliated, I wanted to kill him. No!’ I reach out to keep hold of William’s suddenly withdrawn hand. ‘Hear me out.’
I take another deep breath, then caress the back of William’s hand with my thumb.
‘I didn’t. He was right there, at the top of the stairs, just like Harry and Martha.’
‘But you didn’t push?’ William interrupts.
I meet his eyes again. ‘Not only that, but I used every ounce of willpower I possessed to not push him.’
‘Is that supposed to reassure me?’
‘Yes. Don’t you see? I’m not Martha. I haven’t lived her life. I fought against the hurt and betrayal. I fought the instinct to push. I am not a killer.’
William gazes into my face, unnerving me with his close scrutiny. ‘But you were scared you could be.’
My features crumple and tears spill. ‘Terrified,’ I confess. ‘For an instant, for one terrible instant, I really
considered doing it. I could have said he’d tripped and no one would have known I had it in me to kill. He’s a clumsy bastard, I could have got away with it.’ My voice had reduced to a whisper.
‘But you didn’t, did you?’
No. Not said, just a shape formed by my lips.
‘Then you’re not a killer.’
I can’t speak or meet his eyes any longer.
He grasps my hand now. Hard.
‘Don’t you see, Verity?’
‘What?’
‘That’s what this is all about. We know from your father’s name that you’re related to Martha somehow.’
‘So I have a murder gene, is that what you’re saying?’
‘No, dammit!’ William takes a calming breath, sits back down after his explosive words, and places his hands on his knees after I pull away from him.
‘You were given the same test, don’t you see? And you passed. Where Martha didn’t. You’ve just not accepted that because the “could have” is so strong in your conscience; it stopped you accepting that the important thing is that you didn’t push.’
‘What?’ I’m thoroughly confused now.
‘You didn’t kill Antony, despite what he did and how much you wanted to,’ William explains. ‘You didn’t kill him, Verity, you are not a killer.’
‘But I came so close!’
‘And didn’t do it. And Martha came back to make you understand that.’
I stare at him, starting to accept what he’s saying.
‘You’re not a killer, Verity,’ he repeats.
‘No. No, I’m not am I?’ I laugh – a strange, strangled sound, but a laugh of relief all the same. ‘I didn’t kill him. I really, really wanted to, but – I didn’t,’ I add quickly, seeing the alarm in William’s eyes. ‘I didn’t push.’
William smiles at me, and I sit back, my body feeling weak, as if I would crumple.
The fear and self-loathing that has been keeping me upright since that morning suddenly drains away. ‘I’m not a killer, I’m not that person.’
William moves closer, tentatively it has to be said, but forward propulsion all the same. He pulls his chair along, until he’s as close as he can be without sitting on my lap, and wraps his arms around me.
I pull back.
‘I understand now why Martha came, why she’s been here, but what about Harry? He’s been with you – there were definitely two orbs – why? And why did they push Jayne and attack Antony?’
‘My guess is it was Martha who did both of those – she was the one who let anger get the better of her, who lashed out.’ William takes my hand as he speaks and rubs his thumb over my skin.
‘That does actually make sense. She was frustrated, unable to communicate, and trying to do so in the only way she could.’
‘Jayne, and especially Antony, were getting in the way of us meeting.’
‘But why was Harry with her?’
‘To keep her in check maybe?’
‘Or to warn you to stay away from me?’
William laughs. ‘Just the opposite. He’s forgiven her, don’t you see? He came here now to help Martha communicate her message. Whatever she did—’
‘Whatever she did? She pushed him down the stairs and broke his neck!’
‘But he’s forgiven her – he understands, he still loves her and wants to be with her. The only one who can’t forgive her is Martha herself, and Harry wants her to understand that. And he’s letting us know too.’
I stare at him. Does he really believe that? I remember my dreams when I first arrived in Haworth, Harry had been with Emily, not Martha.
He recognises the scepticism in my eyes and sighs, grins, then says, ‘All right, fair enough, that’s unlikely. He’s probably punishing her still, won’t ever forget it or stop hating her, but is making sure we get it right while he’s at it.’
‘Now that I can believe,’ I say with a small smile.
‘It’s only been a hundred and eighty years or so,’ William adds. ‘She still has millennia to repent.’
I eye him cautiously. ‘You’re not going to hold a grudge, are you?’
He smiles properly and shrugs. ‘Well, it does kind of run in the family ...’
The humour evaporates.
‘In the family,’ I repeat. ‘We’re related!’
‘I guess so.’
We stare at each other, stricken.
‘But only very, very, very distantly,’ he adds, then leans forward and kisses me.
I pull back. ‘One more thing.’
‘What?’ He sounds exasperated.
‘The Grey Lady. How does she fit in?’
He opens his mouth, then closes it again with a frown. ‘I’m not sure. Emily was there, wasn’t she? I mean here.’ He points at the wall between The Rookery and Weaver’s Row.
‘Yes. And Lara said something—’ I pause, trying to remember.
‘What?’
‘That the Grey Lady is an, an imprint, like a recording in time. Repeating the same action over and over again.’
‘So … what? She's repeating that final climb up the steps before Harry's death, and has done for all these years?’
‘I guess so.’ I shrug. ‘Although the last time I saw her, she turned and looked at me.’
‘Maybe she has resolution too, now, and can finally rest in peace.’
‘I hope so.’
10.
Two Weeks Later
‘Morning, Verity,’ Lara says as she enters Reception. ‘Are you ready for the big day?’
I pull my lips into a tortured smile and Lara laughs.
‘Don’t look so worried. We’re ready, and Hannah and I will stay for the rest of the Easter holidays – by that time you’ll be able to cope with the stairs much better and you can vacate the downstairs room and let it out. You’re not on your own, you know.’
I give her a proper smile and relax. ‘Thank you so much for giving up your holidays to help me out.’
‘Are you kidding? This is an adventure – we have our own apartment for three weeks, and in a guesthouse.’ She pointed upwards to indicate my quarters. ‘And we’re spending the holidays with good friends. Hannah loves exploring the village and moors, and there’s always something to do. She thinks she is on holiday, don’t you, Hans?’
Hannah looks confused, then shrugs. ‘I guess so. Can I take Grasper out later?’
‘You’ll have to ask Aunt Jayne when she gets here.’
‘Okay.’
‘Speak of the Devil,’ I say at a knock at the door, and go to let Jayne in.
‘Morning,’ she sings out as she enters The Rookery.
Lara giggles. ‘Looks like you had a good night.’
Jayne blushes, then shrugs. ‘I’d forgotten what it was like to wake up next to someone in the morning.’
‘You and Vikram getting on well then?’ Lara asks.
Jayne nods, her face still red, and I give her a hug. ‘It’s great to see you so happy.’
‘Yes, yes, okay,’ Jayne says, embarrassed. ‘Have you got the coffee on?’
Lara laughs, walks to the sideboard and gestures at the freshly made pot of coffee waiting for us.
‘Well pour it then,’ Jayne says, laughing, ‘don’t just show it off, you’re not hosting a game show.’
‘I hope Vikram knows what he’s getting into,’ I say with a chuckle.
Jayne gives an embarrassed grimace. ‘The first thing he does in the morning is get me a coffee,’ she admits.
‘Aunt Jayne, where’s Grasper?’
‘He’s at Vikram’s house, Hannah. With it being Auntie Verity’s big opening, he’s better off out of the way.’
‘Oh.’ Hannah’s face falls in disappointment.
‘Don’t worry, we can go and get him later and you can take him out for a walk.’
‘Okay.’
‘Right, well, shall we have breakfast, then we can get on with the day?�
�
‘Just what I was thinking,’ I say. ‘Come on through to the dining room.’
***
‘Well, that went pretty smoothly,’ I say, pleased with myself, ‘despite all your different orders.’
‘It was a test run, Verity. When guests are here, they’ll all be ordering different things, and you need to serve everyone at the same table at the same time,’ Jayne says. ‘Whether you still need that walking stick or not.’
‘I’m not talking to you for ordering poached eggs. That was just cruel.’
‘But delicious and perfectly cooked.’
Lara smiles and tops up our coffees. ‘What’s up, Verity? You seem a bit out of sorts this morning.’
I sip my drink, then place my cup carefully on its saucer. ‘I think I understand the orbs and the Grey Lady.’ I pause.
‘Yes,’ Lara encourages. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you and William are right about them, and I don’t think any of them will be seen again. They’ve done what they needed to do, and are at peace now.’
‘That’s not it, though, is it, Verity?’ Jayne presses.
‘No. It’s the birds. Why did they congregate here? Why were they tapping the windows and breaking them?’
‘Yes, Mum, I’ve been thinking about that too,’ Hannah says. ‘What were the birds doing?’
Lara sips her coffee. ‘To be honest, I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure. It could be that the old tale about graveyard rooks being the souls of the dead, or maybe the souls of children who died before being christened, are true, and Harry and Martha being here made it easier for them to interact with us.’
‘Or?’ I push.
‘Or Martha and Harry were trying to use them to communicate.’
‘But it was Emily Brontë who had the connection with animals and birds,’ Jayne points out. ‘Could she have been trying to warn Verity? Trying to prevent Martha taking her over?’
‘That does make sense, Jayne, I’m impressed,’ Lara says with a proud grin. ‘Emily saw Martha at her worst, and was also invested in the village and doing what she could to ease suffering – whether animal or human. It makes sense she would or could use the birds to stop Martha causing more harm.’
I nod, the words whirling around my head.
Parliament of Rooks Page 27
