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‘That’s right, dear… we did have a lady staying here by the name of Miss Pengally. Oh, but she’s gone. Been gone these many weeks. I’m sorry, dear… and you all the way from America to find her!’ The homely Mrs Grady had run a respectable boarding-house in Weymouth for many years, and she was proud of the fact that she never forgot a face. ‘Striking handsome woman was Miss Pengally… had something about her that always made people turn their heads to stare after her. But she never encouraged them, oh dear me no… she was a woman who always kept herself to herself.’ She might have added ‘obsessed with her privacy’, but thought better of it. She shook her trim grey head, folded her arms and creased her round bright eyes into a smile. ‘I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey,’ she said, simultaneously offering Cassie a china plate which was piled on one side with neatly cut sandwiches, and on the other with half a dozen tiny cakes, each with a cherry on top. ‘Have another sandwich before you go, dear,’ she urged.
Cassie gratefully declined. Her appetite had been quelled with the news that Scarlet Pengally was no longer at the address given in the letter. She felt disheartened and thoroughly drained by her long journey. Since arriving in Southampton on a cold windswept March day, she had wasted no time in travelling straight to Weymouth in the south of England, by way of train and local bus. Victoria Street had been relatively easy to locate and now here she was, seated in the tiny welcoming parlour of the boarding-house named in Scarlet Pengally’s frantic letter. The news that she had been gone these past weeks was a devastating blow for Cassie. ‘No, thank you all the same, Mrs Grady.’ She had to keep searching; she must find Scarlet Pengally! ‘Did she leave any forwarding address? Did she say anything about where she was going?’ For a moment it crossed Cassie’s mind to go to the police with the letter. But her instincts warned her against it. After all, there was no real reason to… and she felt that Scarlet Pengally would not thank her.
Mrs Grady shook her head in a slow thoughtful manner as she returned the plate to the table. ‘No, I’m afraid she didn’t… and of course, it’s my policy never to pry into the affairs of a guest. As I say, in the time she stayed here, Miss Pengally never socialised with any of the other guests. She spent a great deal of her time in her room… took all of her meals up there. She was a… nervous type, I thought. None of us ever knew where she came from.’
‘Did she have any visitors?’
‘None that come to mind.’
Mrs Grady regarded her visitor closely. It was plain to see that she was a wealthy young woman, but then, all Americans are wealthy, she thought wryly. She felt a pang of compassion for this one, though, because, in spite of her expensive blue two-piece with its beautifully tailored straight skirt and tiny nipped-in waist, there was a forlorn look about her face, an almost tragic loneliness in the lovely eyes, that no amount of money could erase. ‘Look here, my dear,’ she ventured softly, ‘You’ve come a very long way and you’re obviously exhausted. I know my little boarding-house probably… isn’t what you’re used to, but… I do have a spare room… a nice one overlooking the promenade. You’re very welcome to stay the night… give yourself time to think, and to refresh yourself.’
Cassie considered for a moment. She did need time to work out her next move. Also it was getting late, and she had not arranged alternative accommodation. She had deliberately travelled light, bringing with her only one portmanteau and a smaller valise, both of which were standing in the hall. Mrs Grady’s suggestion made sense, and so Cassie thanked her. ‘I will stay overnight,’ she said, feeling the weight of sleep on her, ‘and you’re right, Mrs Grady… I am very tired.’
‘That’s settled, then!’ Mrs Grady was already on her feet. ‘I’ll fetch the key… and call Amy to take the cases up.’ She made a hurried departure from the room, a broad smile on her face as she went. It was her first American guest, and she saw it as a real feather in her cap!
In a matter of minutes, the landlady was back. ‘There you are, dear,’ she told Cassie, handing her a small bunch of keys. ‘Room Four, just at the top of the stairs. You’ll find the bathroom at the end of the corridor… and there are clean towels on your dresser. Amy’s taking your bags up right now.’ She walked with Cassie to the door. ‘If there’s anything you need, dear… just ask.’
Cassie thanked her, saying there was nothing she needed apart from a good night’s sleep, and made her way up the stairs to Room Number Four. She was pleasantly surprised to see a spacious room, which was tastefully furnished. There was a large brass bed with a deep floral eiderdown, wardrobe and chest of drawers in light oak wood, beige-patterned linoleum, pretty chintz curtains at the long casement window, and a small hand-basin tucked unobtrusively into one corner. Cassie had to agree with the delightful Mrs Grady. It was not the luxury she was used to, but it was clean and welcoming and strangely comforting, she thought, giving her the feeling that she’d been there before. But of course she had not.
Collecting her valise from near the wardrobe where Amy had placed it, Cassie swung it up onto the bed; all she wanted was to bathe and afterwards to climb in between the sheets and fall asleep. Tomorrow she must decide what to do. There must be some way she could trace the woman who claimed to be her mother, but for now she was bone-tired and couldn’t think straight.
Some time later, after having soaked in a tub of hot soothing water, Cassie returned to her room and was about to turn back the bedcovers when two things happened. She noticed the three framed prints on the wall directly above the bedhead and, leaning forward to admire them more closely, it struck Cassie there was something not quite right about the manner in which they were hung. All three were small landscapes, probably not very valuable she guessed, but pretty and decorative all the same. Two were hung beside each other higher up the wall; the third was at odd angles to these, being much lower and curiously isolated, as though hung there as an afterthought. Instinctively Cassie reached out to touch it. It was then there came a sharp intrusive knock on the door, startling Cassie and causing her to swing round, accidentally knocking the picture from the wall and onto the bed. ‘Who is it?’ she called. For some inexplicable reason she felt afraid.
‘It’s only me, miss… Amy.’
‘Oh, Amy… come in.’ Cassie relaxed, retrieving the picture as Amy came into the room carrying a tray. ‘Mrs Grady thought a cup of cocoa and a biscuit might help you to sleep better.’ She was a bright little thing in a dark dress and white pinafore. Her small brown eyes smiled at Cassie. ‘I’ll put it down here, shall I, miss?’ Without waiting for an answer, she came forward and carefully placed the tray on the bedside table next to Cassie. When she straightened up to bid Cassie goodnight, her eyes grew round with alarm as she saw that Cassie was preparing to replace the picture on the wall. ‘Oh, miss… let me do that!’ she urged. But it was too late. Cassie had seen the damage on the wall, and was already examining its peculiar shape.
Cassie’s fingers traced the deliberate jagged shape which had been etched into the plaster, seemingly by a sharp instrument. Her eyes were not deceived. ‘It’s a cross!’ she gasped.
‘She did that!’ Amy’s face was drained of colour as she pleaded with Cassie. ‘You won’t tell Mrs Grady about it, will you? It’ll cost me my job if you do.’
‘What does it mean?’ Cassie was both alarmed and intrigued. ‘Who did it, Amy? And why would it cost you your job?’
‘I should’a told Mrs Grady… but I know I’d have got the blame. I’m responsible for these rooms being kept in good condition, but oh, she goes on when there’s damage done and money to be spent. She always blames me! She’d blame me for this if she knew about it… that’s why I put the picture over it… so as she wouldn’t notice. But it weren’t nothing to do with me. She did it!’
‘Who? Who did it, Amy?’
‘The one you were asking about. Miss Pengally… Scarlet Pengally. This was her room, y’see.’
A small hope was awakened in Cassie, but it was tempered by the st
range discovery she had made. Why in God’s name would Scarlet Pengally want to gouge the sign of a cross onto the wall? ‘Sit down, Amy… please.’ Cassie indicated towards the small wicker chair by the window. ‘Tell me about Scarlet Pengally… tell me everything you know.’
Shaking her head, Amy began retreating towards the door. ‘I don’t know anything, miss. Honest, I just know that she was the one who put that on the wall. It wasn’t there one day… then it was there the next, and she used to get these terrible nightmares. I sleep in the attic, over this room, and sometimes I’d hear her moaning and crying. I came down to her one night… but I were too late to stop her.’ She pointed a shaking finger to the cross on the wall. ‘Y’know, miss… she were still asleep. Even when she was awake, she’d sometimes behave in a funny way… whispering one name over and over. “Silas,” she’d say… “Silas”… all quiet and spooky-like… as though he were whispering to her, and she were whispering back.’
‘Are you saying she was crazy?’ Cassie was deeply angered by such a prospect.
‘No!’ Amy appeared shocked. ‘No, she weren’t “crazy”, miss. She were a lovely lady… kind and quiet… and oh, you could see that she’d been a real beauty… still was! But she were a little strange sometimes. Not “crazy”, you understand. She’d just go off in a world of her own. She were poorly; that’s what it was.’
‘Amy, think very hard… did she say anything at all about where she was going when she left here?’ Now, more than ever, Cassie felt desperate to find her!
‘No, miss. She never talked about nothing like that. She were a very private sort of lady.’
‘Are you absolutely certain that she didn’t say where she was headed?’
‘Yes, miss… she never told nobody where she’d come from… nor what her plans were. Not at all.’ Amy watched as the American visitor sank to the bed. She did look tired, poor thing, and it would have been nice if she’d been able to tell her what she wanted to know. But what she said was the truth. Scarlet Pengally never told anybody anything! ‘Goodnight, miss. Oh, you won’t tell Mrs Grady about that damage to the wall, will you, miss?’ Amy was anxious to leave.
‘No, of course not. Goodnight.’
Cassie waited until the door was closed behind the departing figure before once more examining the marks on the wall. She felt oddly disturbed by them, even afraid, though she didn’t know why. Who was this man Silas? Why was Scarlet Pengally so obsessed with him that she felt compelled to whisper his name, ‘over and over’? And what had been her reason for carving a large cross into the wall? What did it all mean?
The questions spun in Cassie’s mind even as she drifted into sleep, tormenting her dreams and causing her a fitful night. So much so that when she came down to breakfast, she felt no more rested than when she had retired. Yet, she looked deceivingly refreshed in a pretty green paisley dress, with her hair brushed loosely into natural waves. She put on a bright and cheery front, chatting to the other guests and passing the time of day as though there were no other issues on her mind; when all the time her mind was beleaguered by thoughts of Scarlet Pengally, by what had driven her, and by thoughts of what had become of her since leaving this house. She couldn’t help but think of the letter and its desperate wording. And, for the first time, Cassie felt both guilty and moved with compassion. What was it that had prompted Scarlet Pengally to contact her after all these years, and in such a way? The letter had been a call for help. And no help had come! What had been the consequences, wondered Cassie, and, in wondering, her blood ran cold.
‘Did you put the picture back, miss?’ Amy lifted the portmanteau into the car. ‘You didn’t say anything to Mrs Grady, did you, miss?’
‘No… I didn’t say anything. And yes, I put the picture back.’ Cassie smiled and handed the girl a half-crown.
‘Ooh! Thank you very much.’ Amy had never been given such a tip! ‘Where will you go now? Now that you’ve not found who you were looking for?’ she asked, as Cassie buttoned up her green fitted jacket and climbed into the vehicle.
‘I think my next stop will have to be London… there must be somewhere there where they keep records. One thing is for sure… I don’t intend to give up!’ Cassie had never been more adamant.
‘That’s right, miss!’ The girl’s face lit up with a smile. ‘There must be a place in London where they keep everybody’s records!’ She prepared to close the door behind Cassie. ‘They might even be able to tell you about “Greystone House!”… though I shouldn’t think your friend would go back there, miss, oh no! She seemed too frightened of that place!’
‘Greystone House?’ Cassie grabbed the girl’s fingers as they closed on the half-open window. ‘You never mentioned that to me! When I asked you if Miss Pengally had said anything, you said she had told you nothing at all!’ She clambered from the car, gripping the anxious girl by the shoulders and telling her impatiently, ‘Amy! It’s vital that I find this woman. You must tell me all you know. What about this “Greystone House”? What did she say… is that where she came from?’
‘I don’t know, miss… honest! I didn’t tell you no lies… she never told me anything. But sometimes, when I took her tray up… she’d be snoozing, like… and she’d mumble all the time in her sleep. That’s when she mentioned “Greystone House”… and if you ask me, it couldn’t have been a very nice place… because she always woke up when she dreamed about it, and her black eyes were all big and frightened! She won’t have gone there, miss, I’m sure of it!’
‘What else, Amy?’ Cassie knew the girl had not deliberately kept the information from her, but, if she had forgotten this much, it was likely there was something else as well. ‘Think hard, Amy! She talked in her sleep, you say?’ The girl nodded. ‘You heard her mention this “Greystone House”?’ Again the girl nodded. ‘There was something else… think hard… what else did she say in her sleep, Amy? What else?’ Cassie insisted.
‘Well… she were always going on about that man… that “Silas”… oh, and another name… Cassie! And sometimes when she called the names, she’d cry like a baby. Once or twice, she’d say about that house, and it always seemed to frighten her, I know that, miss!’ She paused, her pretty little face crumpled up as though trying hard to recall Miss Pengally’s every haunted word. ‘That were all, really. Oh! And there was one time when she mumbled about a place called Minehead… Minehead! Yes, that was it!’ She gave Cassie a bright smile, seeming suitably pleased with herself.
‘Nothing more?’
‘No, miss. Like I told you, she never said anything to anybody about her business… but she had these awful dreams… day and night, when words would tumble from her, and sometimes she’d wake up in a terrible state… like something was after her! She got real poorly sometimes, and she wouldn’t eat for days.’
‘She had a doctor, then. What was the doctor’s name, Amy?’
‘No, miss… there weren’t no doctor. She wouldn’t have no doctor. Honest, miss… there’s nothing else I can tell you.’ She began to look distressed.
‘Don’t worry, Amy… you’ve helped more than you know.’ Cassie fished about in her handbag before withdrawing a small notebook and pencil. She began scribbling into the book, quietly repeating those things which the girl had told her and which she felt would help in her search. ‘Greystone House’. ‘Minehead’. If Cassie had harboured any doubts about her journey to England, they were gone now, replaced by an even stronger compulsion, a feeling deep within her that drove her on; she would not rest until she had found this extraordinary woman who had sent her such a strange summons.
As the vehicle drove away in the morning sunshine, with Cassie gazing out of the window at the lovely crescent-shaped bay with its golden sands, and at the numerous people sauntering along the broad promenade, she could not dispel the disturbing sense of evil that continued to pervade her thoughts. She could not rid her mind of the cross that Scarlet Pengally had carved into the wall above her bed. Was it another cry for help, Cassie wondere
d… or was it something more sinister? Either way, its discovery only served to lend a greater sense of urgency to her search!
Cassie’s destination was Minehead, which Amy had explained was in the West Country. ‘How long will it take me to get there?’ Cassie asked the ticket clerk at the railway station.
‘Five hours and more… depending on whether your connections at Westbury and Taunton are on time, miss.’ The thin-faced man pushed Cassie’s ticket and her change under the counter window towards her, ‘But it’ll take a blessed sight longer if you don’t get your skates on, luv. We’ve only two trains a day going to your destination… one leaves at five minutes to midnight… and the other’s just about to pull outta the station!’ Seeing Cassie scrambling her luggage together and hurriedly making her way towards the indicated platform, he called out, ‘Enjoy your stay in England!’ But Cassie was already out of sight. She wasn’t looking forward to the journey which the clerk had described… five hours on a train and changing twice before she got to her destination.
It was four p.m. when Cassie alighted from the train at Minehead in Somerset. It had been a long slow journey but, strangely enough, she was not tired, only relieved at having arrived, and convinced that here, in this seaside town, she would at last come face to face with Scarlet Pengally.
There had been two taxis standing outside the railway station, both waiting for fares; Cassie took the first one.
‘Where to?’ The little man tilted his cap and gave Cassie a wide toothless smile, at the same time stowing her cases into the car.
‘A decent hotel,’ she answered. ‘Which would you recommend?’
‘Why, for a lady like yourself… American aren’t you, miss?’ When she smiled and nodded, he went on, ‘The Wellington! You’ll be comfortable there, I can promise.’
Scarlet Page 2
