Legacy of Greyladies

by Anna Jacobs

  Babs smiled at her. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I’d better set off for London. I don’t want to be driving after dark.’

  She said goodbye to Phoebe and Miss Bowers. ‘Don’t bother to come out with us. Olivia can get her suitcase then I’ll be on my way.’

  As Olivia stepped away from the car, Babs said urgently, ‘If you need help, any sort of help, don’t hesitate to phone me.’

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Will you be going back to your own home after you leave here?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t even like the thought of leaving Greyladies.

  Olivia waved goodbye to her then frowned. She felt suddenly uneasy, as if someone was watching her, sending waves of hatred her way, not from the house but from the side of the gardens nearest the village.

  How silly could you get?

  She turned resolutely to face her future and once she was inside the house, the strange feeling faded and joy filled her again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sidney Hatterson sat in his usual armchair and watched the car stop outside his house, wondering who it could be. Then two ladies got out, spoke to a passer-by and went to the old hag’s cottage. Soon afterwards the driver came back and moved the car, so Sidney knew the visitors must be more damned Hun-lovers, like the old hag.

  He’d taken a dislike to Miss Bowers the minute he saw her and avoided speaking to her. People might say she was a kind old lady, but he didn’t agree at all. How dare she look at him as if he was a naughty boy? Typical schoolmistress. She’d probably caned her pupils as hard as his teacher had caned him.

  It made him even angrier that a woman had been driving the car. Women shouldn’t be driving vehicles at all. They weren’t capable of doing it properly, weren’t safe on the roads. Look how she’d parked it the first time! Nowhere near Miss Bloody Bowers’ cottage.

  He kept watching. Well, what else had he to do with himself with only one leg?

  Then all three women came out and got into the car. Out of sheer curiosity he slipped out of the back door and went down the narrow lane between the cottages to a slight rise from which he could see which direction they’d taken.

  They left the village and went towards the only house on that road – Greyladies. He should have guessed they’d be going there. That Latimer woman was another who needed teaching a lesson, a female who’d let Huns live in her house. He couldn’t bear to see the same villains who’d shot off his leg walking freely round his village.

  Ha! They weren’t walking about at the moment, were they? He and his friends had put a stop to that, made them afraid to poke their snouts outside the trough.

  He wished the women had left their car outside the hag’s house and walked to Greyladies, as Miss Bowers usually did. If they’d done that, he’d have given the driver something to think about. He fingered his penknife regretfully. He could have ruined one of her tyres easily. Just bend down as if to pick something up and give it a couple of slashes. That’d have shown her she couldn’t look after a car, let alone drive one properly.

  The Pocock family, who ran the village store, were sharp-eyed and would notice if he walked openly towards the big house. And there were always females in the village church, fiddling around with flowers or pretending to be useful. So he had to stay out of sight of that, too. He didn’t let his wife waste her time on that sort of thing. She had enough to do at home.

  He walked in another direction and once he was out of sight, he took a little-used footpath across the fields to the ruins of the old abbey. He didn’t like it there. The place made him shiver. But cutting across the back was a useful way to get out of the village to Greyladies without being seen, so he ignored his discomfort.

  As he walked past the entrance to the crypt, with its wrought iron gates, he scowled at the big lock on the door. If it was part of a church, it should be open to everyone. He stopped on a sudden thought. He had an old padlock, might be able to use it here to cause them more trouble.

  Then he heard sounds, and from behind a tree he watched the two women come out to the car.

  It was damned cold, but he lingered to watch. You had to know what your enemy was doing.

  The chubby woman got into the car. The other one, the skinny redhead, took a suitcase out of the vehicle, waved goodbye and went back into the big house with it.

  So she was staying, was she? Well, she’d regret that decision when she got caught up in the next stage of his plan.

  He grinned at the thought. He and his friends were going to deal with that whole bunch of traitors and enemies. He might not be able to fight for England now, but he could still kill England’s enemies. Oh yes.

  When he went home, he would find the old padlock and put it into his overcoat pocket, just in case.

  In London Alex sighed and looked at his pocket watch. Seven o’clock. He should have gone home an hour ago, but who would know whether he was there or not?

  Since his staff left for the day, he’d been wandering around his shop like a moonstruck idiot, wondering how Olivia was getting on, feeling as if something unpleasant was happening to her. Strange, that, but then he’d always had a vivid imagination and sometimes the things he pictured in his mind actually happened.

  It ran in his family. He’d been sternly warned as a child not to tell people about that, because they’d think him mad. As an adult he’d seen the sense of that and continued to keep his hunches to himself.

  It surprised him how much he missed Olivia, when he’d only met her a few times. But he did miss her … very much.

  Just as he was about to leave for home, the telephone in his office rang. He hesitated, decided not to pick it up, then curiosity got the better of him and he rushed to snatch the receiver off the hook, nearly sending the stand off the edge of his desk as he did so. You had to wonder whether there might not be some better design of telephone apparatus than this glorified candlestick.

  He leant forward to speak into the mouthpiece at the top of the stand. ‘Seaton Antiques.’

  ‘Babs here, Alex. Look, I’ve just got back from our trip to the country and I’ve a few things to tell you. Also, Olivia is going to need picking up from Wiltshire in a day or two, so of course I thought of you. If you’re free, that is. If you’re interested …’

  ‘You’re a meddling woman, Babs, as I’ve told you many times. But if your meddling gives me a genuine reason to spend time with Olivia, go ahead and meddle any time. Of course I’ll pick her up.’

  ‘You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes. But I’m not going to discuss that any further with you. It’s between her and me.’

  ‘That’s what she says, too. But I’ll need to tell you about where she’s staying and what she’s going to be doing there, and it’s quite complicated, so why don’t you come to supper at my house tonight? It won’t be a fancy affair, so don’t get dressed up. You and I will have a simple meal and a chat. I didn’t want to come to your shop tomorrow, because we can get interrupted there. How about eight o’clock?’

  ‘I haven’t eaten yet so that would be delightful. I’ll come to you instead of going home.’

  He hung the receiver up, pleased at the prospect of company tonight. It would be easy enough to leave his business for a few days and drive Olivia anywhere she needed. He’d been lucky and found some very capable employees who could be trusted to keep things going as he’d have wished. He didn’t believe in breathing down people’s necks and checking their every action and none of his staff had abused his trust. On the contrary. They surprised him sometimes.

  He drove to Babs’s house and was shown straight into her personal sitting room where a small table in one corner was set for two.

  Babs bounced over to greet him in her usual ebullient way and asked the maid to have the food sent in as soon as it was ready. ‘I hope you don’t mind eating straight away, Alex dear, but I’m ravenous.’

  ‘I’m hungry too.’ He hadn’t been till he got her call.

/>   ‘Let’s sit at the table. I don’t think the food will be long.’

  He seated her and took his own place. ‘Tell me how your trip went.’

  ‘Oh, it was excellent.’ She launched into a tale of all their doings, making him smile. Then, after their soup had been taken away and the main course brought in, she looked at him more seriously. ‘But what you really want to know is what has happened to Olivia.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll just have a few mouthfuls of this, then I’ll tell you.’

  He barely touched his own food as he listened to her. When it came to the scene with the ghost he could hardly breathe, he was so enmeshed in what she was saying. It was almost as if he could see it for himself.

  ‘She wasn’t afraid of this ghost?’

  ‘No. Apparently, it’s a very benign spirit. Even I saw the light, such a soft, beautiful glow. And now Olivia is staying at Greyladies for a few days to get to know the place and, well, it sounds as if she’ll be living there one day. If it’s all right with you, she’ll phone you when she wants to leave. Unless you’re too busy …?’

  ‘You know I’m not. I’ll never be too busy to help her.’

  ‘I wanted to explain and give you time to think about it – you know, about how you and Olivia could manage lives so far apart.’

  He surprised himself. ‘I’d sell my business in an instant, if necessary, to be with her.’

  ‘You are badly smitten.’

  ‘Yes. But she’s still grieving so I have to be patient.’

  ‘I think this new turn of events has jerked her out of her mourning. She said herself that her husband’s voice is getting fainter in her head.’

  Alex hoped she was right. He changed the subject. ‘You were talking about setting up Women’s Institutes. If I can help in any way with that, money or time or whatever, I’d be happy to do so, Babs, and not just because of how I feel about Olivia. I see women all the time who are downtrodden, hardly allowed to breathe for themselves, let alone think. And then I meet women like you who are busy and fulfilled. It doesn’t seem fair.’

  ‘Most men don’t care about the details of women’s lives.’

  ‘Perhaps I have some fellow feeling. I’ve always suffered from being the family weakling. People used to treat me as if my brain was affected as well as my body, my mother always spoke about me as “poor Alexander” when I was little and left me almost completely in the hands of my nursemaid. As I grew older and looked like surviving, my father tried to dictate everything I did. He’d have kept check on how I breathed in and out if he could.’

  ‘More fools they!’

  ‘Yes. But I’m financially independent now, in spite of everything, and have been able to manage my life as I please for many years.’

  ‘You’re one of the shrewdest businessmen I know.’

  They finished the meal, chatting amicably about mutual friends and the latest developments in the war. He left around ten, seeing how tired Babs was.

  He would now have to wait till Olivia telephoned him to say she was ready to be picked up. That couldn’t happen too soon.

  After Babs had left Greyladies, Miss Bowers soon followed. ‘I need a rest in the afternoons now. So annoying when a body grows older and weaker, and a mind still thinks it’s young.’

  ‘Just a minute.’ Phoebe rang for Ethel. ‘Could you please walk back with Miss Bowers? We don’t want any more incidents and she can’t run away as you or I could.’

  Miss Bowers scowled at that. She hated needing to use a walking stick.

  ‘And then, when you get back, Ethel, could you please prepare a bedroom for Mrs Harbury. She’s a distant cousin of mine and will be staying here for a few days.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  After Miss Bowers had left, Phoebe turned to her guest. ‘Would you like me to show you round the older part of Greyladies now or do you want to rest?’

  ‘I’d love to see more.’

  ‘Unfortunately, the War Office has requisitioned the front part, though I’m sure the commandant, Captain Turner, will let me show you round the downstairs rooms. The internees are a very pleasant group of people, mainly elderly gentlemen, but a few women live here as well. My former employers, the Steins, are among them.’

  ‘How strange that they’ve ended up interned here!’

  ‘Yes. But it was a piece of good luck for the house. Mrs Stein is enjoying herself, mending and altering curtains. She says if I buy her a sewing machine and find some material, she’ll make new ones where needed. These particular Germans are not our enemies, I promise you.’

  ‘I’ve witnessed the odd act of violence against Germans, some of whom have been living in this country for decades. I detest that. You don’t need to worry. I’m not likely to be rude to the internees.’

  ‘Good. So let’s do a quick tour, then you can wander round on your own at will.’

  ‘I’d love that. Oh, and Miss Cowley said I should visit the crypt. Would that be possible one day?’ Olivia looked round with a smile. ‘You know, I feel very much at home here already.’

  ‘I was the same when I first came into the house. As for the crypt, of course I’ll show it to you. It’s a very peaceful place, with some lovely stonework, but we keep the entrance barred, because we don’t want anything damaged. There’s a passage from the crypt into the cellars. There are one or two surprises like that in the house. I’ll show you them gradually. It’d be too much to take in all at once.’

  ‘How fascinating! I’m honoured that you trust me enough to tell me these secrets.’

  Phoebe laughed gently. ‘The grey lady has chosen you. She always knows. And how could I not trust the next chatelaine who will be caring for this house after me? Now, let’s start with the ground floor.’

  There was a knock on the door and Ethel poked her head round it. ‘I took Miss Bowers back. That Hatterson is keeping watch on this house again. I saw him hiding near the crypt and thought I should warn you.’

  ‘Oh dear! I have such a bad feeling whenever I think of him.’

  ‘Miss Bowers seems to distrust him, too,’ Olivia said. ‘She warned us not to leave the car where he could get at it. Is he really that bad?’

  ‘I must admit I don’t like him. I’ll be interested to see what you say after you’ve met him.’ She shuddered. ‘And he makes no bones about wanting “the Huns”, as he calls them, to leave Greyladies. I think he’d kill them if he could.’

  Olivia was shocked. There was going to be a lot to think about and learn here. But oh, she loved the old house already.

  Phoebe left Olivia to explore the attics on her own the following day, because she’d been asked to speak to Joe’s mother, who was worried about him. Joe came to fetch her in the pony trap, looking sulky. Usually he chatted as they drove out to the farm but today he was silent.

  ‘You’re very quiet. Have I done something to upset you?’ Phoebe asked as the silence continued.

  He shrugged. ‘No. Sorry. It’s Mum. She’s going on at me because I want to join the air force. I think I can do that earlier than I’d get called up for the army, if she and Dad will only give me permission.’

  ‘Well, you can’t blame her. There are still a few months to go before you’ll be called up, aren’t there?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s got it wrong about the air force. She says I’ll be flying planes before you know it and get killed. Pilots don’t live all that long, compared to others.’

  ‘I know. They’re very brave men.’

  He reined in the pony and looked at her earnestly. ‘I don’t want to fly planes; I want to work on the engines. I’m good with machinery.’

  ‘Have you told her that?’

  ‘I’ve told her again and again, but she says they won’t listen to me and they’ll have me flying before you can say Jack Robinson, and then I’ll be killed.’

  ‘She must love you very much.’

  They arrived just then and Joe made a chirruping noise to the pony, which obediently came t
o a halt in front of the door. He jumped down and came round to help Phoebe down from the trap. ‘Will you help me convince her?’

  ‘I’ll see what your mother says first.’

  But it was just as Joe had said. His mother was determined to keep him out of the military forces as long as possible, and she wept so piteously as she talked to Phoebe, that it was impossible to discuss it with the poor woman logically.

  As Joe was driving her back, he sighed. ‘No need to tell me, Mrs Latimer. I know what she said to you. Same as she says to me. Every day, she says it. Stay out till you have to go in.’

  His expression was so stubborn, Phoebe was sure he’d get his way in the end. Or even forge the necessary signatures, as many lads did.

  ‘I’m not going to work on the farm, anyway,’ he added suddenly. ‘It’s machinery I love, not cows. Dad thinks I’ll change, but I won’t. My younger brother can have it.’

  After that he kept silent and soon was dropping her off at Greyladies.

  As she walked inside, she thought of the many young men who had gone off to war eagerly in the early days – looking forward to travel and seeing a bit of the world and expecting to be home again in a few months’ time.

  She had seen them come back looking years older or suffering from bad injuries, and some had not come back at all.

  They were calling it the Great War. It ought to be called the dreadful war, the worst there had ever been, she was sure. Casualties were high and most young men weren’t as eager to enlist nowadays. But some, like Joe, still saw it as a way to build a more interesting future than their fathers had, a way to escape their mundane lives.

  And who was to say Joe was wrong? He was an intelligent lad and very determined.

  She prayed he and the other lads from round here would survive.

  When she got back, Phoebe felt restless. After their midday meal she suggested showing Olivia the crypt, and they both put on their winter coats and wrapped scarves round their heads to cross the garden, because a chilly wind was howling through the village today and the crypt would be cold.