Legacy of Greyladies

by Anna Jacobs

  If she’d been younger, Miss Bowers would have learnt to drive a car too. The era of motor cars had come too late for her, though, and these days she couldn’t have afforded to buy one, as she had to be a bit careful with her money. The old age pension helped a lot, but she was slowly using up her savings.

  You were never too old to dream, though.

  The knocker sounded and she went to open the front door. ‘Mrs Horner-Jevons and Mrs Harbury? I guessed who you were. Do come in.’ Then she looked along to where the car was parked. ‘No, wait. I think your car might be safer if you put it in front of my house.’

  They looked at her in surprise.

  ‘We have a newcomer to the village who is causing trouble. If he knows you’re visiting me and then going on to Greyladies, I wouldn’t put it past him to damage your car if you leave it outside his house.’

  ‘Goodness me. How terrible!’

  ‘You must have noticed his untidy garden. He lost a leg in the war and does nothing to keep his home nice. Indeed, I don’t know what he does do with himself all day except complain and shout at his wife. You can hear him yelling at her from the street. I pity that poor woman.’

  Babs went to move the car, after which Miss Bowers took them into a small parlour crowded with bookcases. ‘My besetting sin is books, and now that I’ve retired I spend a lot of time reading. But you didn’t come here to talk about me. Do sit down, please.’

  They sat on the comfortable sofa indicated by their smiling hostess, feeling truly welcome.

  ‘Let me put the kettle on the hob, then you can tell me about these Women’s Institutes. They’re not something I’ve come across before.’ She bustled out again.

  Olivia couldn’t resist reading the book titles in the nearest bookcase and smiled when she realised Babs was doing the same thing with some at the other side of the small room.

  Then their hostess came back and soon they were telling her about the new Women’s Institute movement. With two short interruptions for her to finish making and serve the pot of tea, they went through some of the activities that were going on all over the country to found institutes.

  ‘That sounds to be a wonderful thing for rural women!’ Miss Bowers said.

  ‘Some urban women too,’ Babs amended.

  When Miss Bowers had finished asking questions, she fell silent for a few moments, looking thoughtful. ‘I wonder … do you have time to come and tell Mrs Latimer about it? She lives at Greyladies, the big house for this village, and she manages a family trust fund set up to help women in need. I’m sure that if you helped us, she and I could set up an institute in Challerton.’

  ‘We’d be happy to do that, but will she have time to see us today? She might be busy, and I have to get back to London tomorrow,’ Babs said.

  ‘Unfortunately, someone is threatening Mrs Latimer’s safety, because of the Germans interned in part of her house.’ Miss Bowers lowered her voice unnecessarily, ‘Possibly that dreadful man two doors along. As her husband is away serving in the war, she daren’t go out and about as she used to until we find a way to catch the villain in the act.’

  They made appropriate sounds of disapproval.

  ‘When you’ve finished your tea, we’ll walk across to Greyladies and see if she’s at home. It’s not far. No, no. What am I thinking of? We should go in your car to keep it safe.’

  Miss Bowers asked Babs to stop the car just inside some large iron gates. The gravel drive had deep wheel ruts in it from some heavy vehicles. She indicated a large house at the far end. ‘I thought you’d like to look at Greyladies. This is the best view of the front part.’

  They could hear the pride in her voice and obediently studied the house. It was built of grey stone with steep roofs tiled by large slabs of another sort of grey stone. Several gables lent it character.

  Olivia’s breath caught in her throat. ‘It’s beautiful.’ There was something about it, something almost magic. How lucky the people were who lived here!

  ‘The front part has been requisitioned by the government as a convalescent home for German and Austrian internees. Fortunately, the family have been allowed to stay in the rear part, which was the original house.’

  ‘Miss Cowley mentioned something about that.’

  ‘We who have grown up in Challerton are very proud of Greyladies. I myself have written a small book about its history.’

  A truck with two soldiers sitting in the open back tooted its horn and Babs pulled the car further to the side to let it pass.

  ‘Such a pity they have to be here.’ Miss Bowers shook her head in disapproval, then indicated the way to the rear of the house.

  The old part was even more beautiful and picturesque than the front and Olivia felt so moved by the sight of it she couldn’t speak. It was as if she’d come home.

  Their guide got nimbly out of the car and knocked on a door at the rear. They got out to join her.

  ‘Miss Bowers, how lovely to see you!’ The lady who had opened it had reddish hair, and was possibly in the family way. She had a sweet expression and seemed fond of her visitor, giving her a hug rather than shaking hands.

  ‘Phoebe, my dear, I knew you’d be at home today, so I’ve taken the liberty of bringing some visitors to meet you.’ She made the introductions.

  Phoebe smiled at them. ‘I’m so glad to meet you. I was feeling like a long walk and I know I mustn’t go out alone till this trouble is sorted out. So frustrating! You couldn’t have come at a better time to cheer me up.’

  ‘Could I ask what sort of trouble?’ Babs inquired.

  Their hostess explained briefly about the various attacks and break-ins at Greyladies. ‘But you didn’t come here to talk about my troubles. Let me ring for Ethel and get her to bring us a tea tray.’

  ‘Perhaps we could do that later? We’ve just had some tea,’ Miss Bowers said tactfully.

  Olivia hadn’t said a word since she’d come into the house, she felt struck dumb by its beauty. Something seemed to be tugging at her, urging her to explore and the words were out before she could stop them. ‘May I look round this room, Mrs Latimer? It’s such a beautiful old place. I take it this was the old hall.’

  To their surprise, she stood up without waiting for permission and began to walk towards the narrow, old-fashioned staircase that led to the minstrel’s gallery.

  Before anyone could speak, Phoebe gasped and whispered, ‘Oh! She’s the one! Miss Bowers, she’s going to be the next lady.’ She clapped her hand to her mouth and watched her guest, who was moving slowly, like someone in a dream.

  ‘My goodness!’ Miss Bowers looked from Phoebe to the guest, who was now at the other end of the large room. Like her hostess, like all the true Latimers, their visitor was a redhead, but Phoebe had foxy-coloured hair while Olivia’s was a rich red in shade. And when you looked closely, there was a resemblance, too, something about the eyes and cheekbones, the straight nose.

  Babs opened her mouth to speak and Miss Bowers made a quick shushing sound, putting one finger to her lips.

  They watched Olivia stop at the foot of the stairs and stare up them as if she could see something. Unfortunately the ornately carved woodwork of the banisters and landing rail hid whatever it was from the others’ view.

  But then a light began to shine in the minstrel’s gallery itself, and they could see that. It gradually grew brighter till it lit up the whole of the gallery.

  Miss Bowers reached out and took Phoebe’s hand, holding it, offering unspoken comfort as they watched the scene play out. She knew that this was a poignant moment for her young friend.

  Olivia stared at the shaft of soft golden light pulsating gently in the gallery above her. It was only a couple of paces away from the top step. She knew she shouldn’t wander around someone else’s house but she was drawn to that light, so strongly attracted that she didn’t even try to resist its pull.

  She couldn’t speak … couldn’t turn away … just had to go up to it, knowing instinctively there was nothi
ng to be afraid of.

  She set one foot on the lowest step and walked steadily up them, moving ever closer to the beautiful radiance.

  Just before the top step, she paused and watched the light shimmer and form itself into the figure of a woman in old-fashioned clothing – late Tudor garments, if she remembered her history correctly. The figure slowly gained form and colour, now appearing as solid as herself.

  The apparition was dressed in grey robes, with a white chemise showing above her bodice and white undersleeves, gathered at the wrist with the resulting frill edged in narrow lace. She had a half-moon headdress of grey velvet on her russet hair, from which a veil hung down her back.

  Olivia suddenly realised the significance of the grey clothing. Of course! The house was called Greyladies. Was this … could it possibly be the ghost of one of the original occupants, a former grey nun?

  She’d sensed ghosts before. All her family did. But she’d never seen one so clearly. She wasn’t afraid, couldn’t possibly be afraid of a woman with such a kindly expression.

  The lady held the folds of her skirt in slender, elegant hands as she dipped into a sweeping curtsey to Olivia, who managed an awkward bob in return.

  The ghost spoke then, in a soft, melodious voice, the words echoing slightly as if coming from a great distance. ‘Welcome to Greyladies, my dear Olivia. One day, quite soon, you will live here as chatelaine. And you will be very happy here.’

  ‘I will?’

  ‘You loved this house at first sight, I could tell. We who look after it all do.’

  ‘Yes, I did. I think it’s not only beautiful but welcoming.’

  Olivia still felt no fear. How could she when the ghost’s eyes shone with love? She had never seen that emotion show so clearly in anyone before.

  ‘I will come back to help you whenever I can,’ Anne Latimer said. ‘I can help … sometimes …’

  The light began to fade and with it the figure until only a few drifts of bright sparks remained, winking out one by one.

  Olivia wished the ghost had stayed because Anne had brought a serenity with her, a serenity that had been lacking in Olivia’s life since Charles’s death.

  It took her a while to realise where she was. How shocking! She’d come into a stranger’s house and ignored her hostess to walk up the stairs and speak to a ghost.

  But anyone who lived in this house must surely have seen the Tudor lady as well. She was such a vivid apparition.

  With a sigh, Olivia turned and went back down the stairs, to where her hostess was waiting for her. She was still finding it difficult to speak coherently because her mind was full of the wonder of what had just happened, but she ought at least to try to apologise.

  Another gentle voice spoke to her and when she gathered her wandering wits, she found that Mrs Latimer had come across to her, leaving the other two women standing further away.

  ‘Are you all right, Mrs Harbury?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry if I seemed … rude.’

  ‘No. You were doing what was necessary.’

  ‘Necessary?’

  ‘It happens with us all.’

  That was puzzling and Olivia had so many questions she didn’t know what to ask first. ‘Who was the lady?’ she managed at last.

  ‘She was and still is, I suppose, Anne Latimer, the founder of the Latimer family who built and still own this house. She always appears to greet the women who are going to live here as chatelaines. It happens when they first visit Greyladies. That’s how we recognise them. And sometimes she appears to warn us of danger or to comfort us as best she can.’

  Olivia stared at her, amazed at what she was saying. ‘Me, live here?’

  ‘Yes. And if Anne appeared to you, that means you and I must be related. Do you have any Latimers among your ancestors?’

  ‘Well, yes. It was my maternal grandmother’s maiden name.’

  ‘Ah. Then you and I are distant cousins, as I’d guessed. Come and sit down and we’ll talk. You must be feeling a little disoriented still.’

  ‘I am. More than a little. But I knew she was real, I just knew it.’

  ‘Of course she is.’

  ‘She has the most wonderfully kind eyes.’

  ‘I think so too. She must have been a strong woman to save the family legacy in such troubled times. I’ll tell you her full story one day. Here. Take this chair.’

  Miss Bowers was smiling gently at her from a sofa and Babs was sitting next to the old lady, looking ready to burst with curiosity. Olivia sank down on the chair, unable even to raise the energy to reassure her friend that she was all right.

  Mrs Latimer rang the bell and asked the maid to bring them a tea tray, then told the two visitors a little more about Anne Latimer.

  ‘But what exactly does her appearance mean?’ Babs asked.

  ‘That Olivia will one day become chatelaine of Greyladies and I will leave. We Latimers only hold the house in trust. We can’t sell it or leave it to someone else. It passes down the female line, but we don’t choose to whom. Either Anne chooses her successor or fate brings the right person here. Who knows how that happens?’

  ‘Aren’t you upset about it, Mrs Latimer?’ Olivia asked. ‘If it means I’m going to take over this beautiful house, that will mean you leaving. How can you bear to do that?’

  ‘Do call me Phoebe and I’ll call you Olivia, shall I? And to answer your question, no, I’m not upset – well, only a little. I do love this house and shall be sad to leave it, but as soon as I became pregnant, I began to feel … distanced from Greyladies, less of a Latimer chatelaine somehow, more Corin’s wife.’

  ‘What will your husband say?’

  ‘Corin agreed to give up his own family home, which he loves dearly, to marry me and live here. He even changed his name to Latimer. It’s my guess that when the war ends and he leaves the army, we’ll both move into his home, because it’s what fate intended.’

  ‘Good heavens!’ Babs said. ‘I’ve never believed in ghosts before. Only, well, I saw the light and I couldn’t think where it came from.’ She stared at the others. ‘I can tell that you all believe in ghosts.’

  Miss Bowers smiled. ‘That’s because we’ve all seen Anne Latimer.’

  ‘I’ve seen other ghosts as well,’ Olivia admitted. ‘Only I don’t tell people about that because they’ll think I’m mad. My husband came to say goodbye to me after he was killed. I’ve heard his voice several times since then, and I’m quite sure it wasn’t my imagination. But his voice is fading now, growing fainter each time I hear it.’

  ‘As is only right,’ Miss Bowers told her gently. ‘He’s allowing you to make a new life and he is moving on, too.’

  Olivia saw Babs shake her head in bafflement but she wasn’t in the mood to argue with her friend. She needed time to think about it.

  ‘Can you both stay here for a day or two?’ Phoebe asked Olivia. ‘I think you should get to know Greyladies and we have plenty of room.’

  Olivia turned to look at Babs.

  ‘I can’t, I’m afraid. I have to get back to London.’ Then Babs brightened. ‘But you can stay, Olivia, and I can send Alex down to pick you up whenever you’re ready. He’ll be quite happy to do that.’

  ‘I said no matchmaking!’ Olivia snapped, but when Babs pulled a cheeky face at her, she stopped scowling. ‘Oh well, I do enjoy his company, so I don’t mind too much.’

  She turned back to Phoebe. ‘I’d be happy to stay for a while, then. If that’s what you really want.’

  ‘I do. It’s good to have time to hand over the house, and there is a trust to deal with as well, so we’ll need to introduce you to the family lawyer.’

  ‘I think,’ Babs said suddenly, ‘I’ll set off for London this afternoon, if you don’t mind. You’ll be able to tell our new friends more about Women’s Institutes, Olivia, and I can start making some practical arrangements to help found them. Well, if you’re still interested in spreading the word, that is.’ She paused, head on one side, w
aiting.

  Olivia didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course I’m still interested. It seems I’ll not be taking over Greyladies yet.’

  Babs outlined the present situation of the WI movement to the other two. ‘The Committee is thinking of employing Voluntary County Organisers, but you know how long committees take to arrange anything. I shall pay your expenses in the meantime, Olivia, to help you make a start in Wiltshire. No, I insist. You’re not rich and I’m comfortably circumstanced. But you must sell your husband’s car and buy one you can drive, because you’ll need to travel around.’

  Since she was aware that Babs was more than ‘comfortably circumstanced’ and indeed, had more money than she knew what to do with, Olivia didn’t protest. ‘Very well.’

  ‘It’ll work out quite nicely, I’m sure. Unfortunately I can’t become a Voluntary County Organiser myself, because I still have other duties in connection with the war.’

  ‘Do you think I’m doing the right thing staying here?’

  ‘Only you can tell that.’

  Olivia glanced over her shoulder, looking across the huge room to the minstrels’ gallery. ‘I think it’s already been decided for me.’

  ‘Won’t you find life in a village rather quiet?’

  ‘I’ve discovered that I enjoy village life. Though not when I’m forced to live with my cousin Donald. I even enjoyed working in the village shop. That experience will help me understand the women we want to attract to the WIs. And I do need something different to do with my life until …’ She shrugged and glanced at Phoebe.

  ‘Until you take over here,’ her hostess said with a smile.

  ‘And Alex?’ Babs prompted. ‘What about him?’

  ‘Stop bringing him into this.’

  ‘Well, it’s obvious that the two of you are attracted. Anyone can see that.’

  ‘If anything happens between us, it’ll happen without your help. He and I are both quite capable of working out how to manage our lives. Besides, I don’t have to rush into anything. The ghost said the changeover wouldn’t happen quite yet. So I can carry on with the work on WIs, see if I can help a few get started, see if that feels worthwhile.’