by Cavendish
A few minutes later, Ailsa gathered them all together in the staff room. “As part of our ongoing expansion, there will be some workmen in today. We’re looking at the viability of opening up part of Farquhars Close, which originally joined onto Henderson Close. At the same time, we can repair the damage to the section of Henderson Close that collapsed a while ago.”
A few giggles erupted. Ailsa smiled. “Aye, I know. Everyone will call it ‘Fucker’s Close’, but I can’t help it. That was its name. James Farquhar—” The repeated correct pronunciation of the name as ‘Farker’ led to more giggles. “He was a wealthy merchant in the early 1800s. I’ve no doubt people had fun with his name then too. The workmen will do their stuff outside opening hours, so it shouldn’t affect anyone too much.”
“Apart from the dust.” George Mackay, dressed as Sir William Henderson, raised his eyes heavenward.
“Hopefully not too bad. They’ll put up boards and work behind them.”
“When are they due to start?” Hannah asked.
“Six o’clock tonight, after the last tour.”
“Wonder what they’ll find?” Mairead asked.
“A whole lot of rubble, I would guess,” Ailsa said.
George laughed. “As long as they don’t let anything out, eh?”
“Thank you, George,” Ailsa said. “I think we’re all aware of the stories about Farquhars Close.”
“Actually, I’m afraid I’m not,” Hannah said.
“Don’t worry,” Mairead said, “I know them. I’ll bring you up to speed.”
“Thank you, Mairead,” Ailsa said. “OK everyone, have a good day.”
The staff dispersed to their stations. Hannah hung back to talk to Mairead. “More ghost stories?” she asked.
Mairead shuddered. “More ghoulish really. George was referring to the old legend that Farquhars Close was some sort of gateway to hell. It was one of the first Closes to go and was sealed very quickly. The story goes that a devil was walled up there and if he should ever be let loose, Edinburgh would burn.”
Hannah grimaced. “Charming little night-time tale.”
“I believe mothers did tell it to their bairns. Stopped them misbehaving. The mother would threaten a naughty child with being sent to the Farquhars devil.”
“I think I’d be tempted to behave myself if I got a threat like that. Was there a physical description?”
“He was supposed to be eight feet tall, with arms and legs like tree trunks, and flaming red eyes.”
“Sounds suitably demonic.”
“There’ll be a grain of truth in there somewhere. There usually is. He was probably a nasty, crooked man of above average height and strong sociopathic tendencies.”
“Sounds about right. Funny, that woman from Kansas I told you about – Lindy – she described seeing a sort of scarecrow behind me. She said it was about that height, with wooden poles for arms.”
“Maybe she had heard the old legend and her mind did the rest.”
“Yes, maybe.”
Mairead made for the door. “I’ll go and collect my first group. See you later.”
Hannah nodded and watched her go. There was something different about Mairead today. Something troubling, and Hannah couldn’t help feeling that whatever it was wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.
* * *
Hannah felt a chill on her face.
“Rachel…Rachel.…”
Hannah stopped halfway down the steps to the Close. Behind her, the group jostled each other.
“Oh there you are. I thought I’d lost you.” A middle-aged woman with fussy black hair grabbed the arm of a teenage girl who sported a bored expression and green hair.
“Sorry, folks,” Hannah said, relieved. “I thought there was a problem.”
The woman laughed. “Oh no, I’m always losing my daughter, she keeps wandering off.”
Hannah addressed the girl. “Probably best if we all stick together.”
The girl responded by rolling her eyes and mouthing, “Whatever.” She pulled her mobile phone out of her pink bomber jacket and her face lit up in the bright light of the screen. Hannah didn’t say anything. She knew what would happen. The girl tapped a few keys, frowned, scowled and returned the phone to her pocket. No signal. There never was down here.
The tour proceeded as normal. Hannah was a few minutes ahead of Mairead, so was the first to arrive at Murdoch Maclean’s print shop. As they approached, Rachel’s mother gave a little cry. “Can you hear that? It sounds like an old machine clanking. So realistic.”
Hannah heard it all right. A clattering, clashing noise that shouldn’t have been there.
One of the men cleared his throat. “Sounds like an antique printing press to me. I used to operate an old letterpress machine. Many years ago, of course.”
“It’s stopped now,” Rachel’s mother said. “That’s awfully clever. I suppose you have a tape playing somewhere.”
Hannah’s mind froze. She must think. Now. They were all looking at her, waiting for the explanation, or punchline. Come up with something. Anything, as long as it’s now.
“Ah yes, ladies and gentlemen, Murdoch Maclean, busy at his press as he always is. Day and night. Let’s have a look at his shop.”
Hannah stared at the sight in front of her. She swallowed hard to suppress her panic. Instead of a neat pile of newspapers, they were scattered all over the floor, as were his tools.
“Not very tidy, is he?” the retired printer said. “I’d have been shot for that.”
“Yes, I agree.” Hannah willed herself to come up with yet another plausible explanation. Finally, “Looks to me as if some of the local ruffians have been in and ransacked the place. It happened a lot in the Close, I’m afraid.”
“Tough times,” the printer said. Did he believe her? His calm expression gave nothing away.
“They certainly were, sir,” Hannah said, remembering her role. “Now, let me take you a little further. I need to show you something quite remarkable.”
Hannah went through the now familiar routine of describing Miss Carmichael’s grisly murder, while her mind raced. Who could have done that to the print shop? The workmen hadn’t started yet, so it couldn’t be any of them. Worse still, Mairead would be in for a similar shock when her tour arrived there and Hannah had no way of warning her. Not without deserting her group. But Mairead was a trouper. She would cope. Just as Hannah had. Wouldn’t she?
“Rachel! Rachel!”
Hannah pasted on what she hoped was a suitably helpful smile. “What’s the matter, madam?”
“She was here a second ago and now I can’t see her anywhere.” The woman’s panic was beginning to infect the others. Hannah had to take control.
“Now, don’t worry, I’m sure she simply got distracted. If you’ll all wait here, I’ll pop back and find her.” And with any luck she might be able to warn Mairead before she made it to the print shop.
She left her group muttering among themselves and trying to calm the agitated mother.
Hannah searched up and down Henderson Close but found no sign of Rachel. Where was the girl? She heard voices approaching and stood on the threshold of the printer’s shop. Mairead appeared, closely followed by her group. Hannah cleared her throat.
“Good day to you, Emily,” she said, trying to ignore Mairead’s questioning expression. “I see you have brought some friends to Mr. Maclean’s shop. Sadly he is closed for business today. As you can see, some of the local hooligans have ransacked the place and he has gone in search of a policeman.”
Mairead picked up the thread. “I see he has left you in charge, Mary.” She turned to her group. “Poor Mr. Maclean. This is the third time this year he has had need of the local constabulary. Kids today, eh?” The group giggled and there were some nods of agreement from some of the older members. “Still, with
Mary in charge, they won’t dare return, will they?”
“Indeed not, Emily.”
“Very handy with a broom handle is Mary.”
“Indeed I am.” Hannah made a gesture resembling a golfer teeing off. “Now, Emily. You don’t happen to have seen a young lady with green hair pass this way, do you?”
Mairead’s eyes opened wide and she shook her head. “Green hair, you say? No, indeed. I think I should have remembered that. I think we all would, wouldn’t we?” The conservatively dressed group were clearly enjoying the exchange and probably thought it was all part of the usual tour.
The sound of running feet brought one of Hannah’s party dashing up the Close. “She’s back,” he said, panting a little. “But I think you’d better come and see.”
“Thank you, I shall come at once, and bid you all a pleasant visit and a good day,” Hannah said, determined to stay in her role. No point in two groups being upset by the antics of one silly girl.
She followed the guest back and spoke softly to him. “What’s happened? Where was she?”
He shook his head. “That’s the point. She doesn’t know. Swears she never left her mother’s side.”
Rachel’s mother was beside herself, wringing her hands and acting as if she were in a Victorian melodrama. Rachel meanwhile was red-faced and angry, protesting her innocence.
“I’m telling you. I was here all the time. It’s you lot that went off somewhere. And then it all went funny.”
“What sort of ‘funny’?” Hannah asked.
“I could see up to the sky, and there was this awful smell. Like manure. Then there were these horses. One nearly knocked me over. And these people came from nowhere and started pointing at me and laughing. Then you all came back and it stopped.”
The expressions of disbelief on the majority of people in front of her spelled potential trouble ahead if Hannah didn’t immediately take hold of the situation. Rachel’s mother was sobbing in the arms of a sympathetic female of a similar age, but far greater self-control.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure there is a simple explanation for all this, but, for now, let’s finish the tour and return to the gift shop and your own time. This lady and her daughter will be well looked after, I can assure you.”
The group had fallen silent now. Only the odd whisper and an atmosphere you could have sliced through. The only sound was the occasional sob from Rachel’s mother.
Back upstairs, Hannah took the mother and daughter aside. “I’d like us to go into the office for a cup of tea and ask you exactly what you saw, Rachel, but first I need to tell my manager what’s happened and also make sure there is someone to cover my next tour.” She addressed the older woman. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name?”
“Jackie.” Her voice trembled.
“Thanks, Jackie. Will you both be all right for a couple of minutes?”
They nodded. Rachel had stopped looking angry now. More confused if anything.
In Ailsa’s office, with strong cups of tea, Hannah prompted Rachel to repeat to her manager what she had seen earlier. Her account was identical. When she had finished, Hannah wished she could bottle the startled expression on Ailsa’s face.
“You say you could see the sky?” Hannah asked.
Rachel nodded.
“So the tenements were their full height. Not covered?”
Again she nodded, but said nothing.
“Did you feel as if you had, somehow, gone back in time?”
“Yes. That’s exactly how it felt. Seriously weird, or what? Freaked me out.” She shuddered.
Still Ailsa said nothing.
Hannah turned to Jackie. “How exactly did she reappear?”
“It was strange. One minute she wasn’t there and the next, she tapped me on the shoulder and asked me where I’d been…where we’d all been and why had we left her on her own.”
“That’s right,” Rachel said.
“This is all most peculiar,” Ailsa said. “I don’t think anyone has reported this sort of thing before.”
“No, but I’ve experienced some strange stuff and I’m not the only member of staff to.…” Hannah wished she could cut off her tongue. Rachel and her mother were clearly keen to know more and Ailsa looked as if she would like to strangle her.
Ailsa glared at her. “I think that’s enough for now.” She addressed Jackie. “All I can do is apologize for the fright you’ve had.”
To Hannah’s surprise, Rachel’s face broke into a grin. “The most excitement I’ve had since we got here. Wicked. Wait till I get home and tell me mates. They’ll never believe it.”
“Rachel!”
The two left, with the mother still scolding her daughter. Hannah made to leave too. She knew it wouldn’t be that easy though.
“Just a second. A word please.”
Ailsa shut the door. “I assume the incident you were referring to happened on your dress rehearsal?”
“That and.… I’m sorry, Ailsa, I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Correct, not in front of our visitors. You mentioned someone else had experienced something similar. No one has brought this to my attention. Who was it?”
“I really can’t say without getting their permission first, but I can describe what they told me.”
“No, I don’t want hearsay. Get their permission and come back to me at closing time today. Both of you.”
* * *
“Bloody hell!” Mairead’s eyes blazed with barely restrained fury. “How could you do that, Hannah? I told you in confidence. Ailsa’ll think I’m a lunatic now.” Mairead’s teaspoon clattered into the sink of the staff room.
“I’m sorry. It slipped out. If it hadn’t been for that girl—”
“She had nothing to do with it.”
“Oh excuse me, she had everything to do with it. I have my experience and then a couple of days later, she has an almost identical one. I think it’s worth comparing the two, don’t you? Maybe something is going on here and we need to work out whether it’s harmless or potentially dangerous. We have hundreds of members of the public in and out of here every week.” Hannah felt her own righteous anger boiling up inside her with each word she uttered.
Mairead wasn’t having any of it. “Ailsa is cynical about anything she can’t see, feel or touch. She only lets us go so far in our storytelling because she doesn’t want us exposed as charlatans or to be in trouble for frightening some poor old dear into an early heart attack. Now you’ve blurted that out in front of visitors and landed me in it with you.”
Hannah stared at her, biting her tongue, so as not to lash out. The door opened. Ailsa strode in.
“I heard most of that. Thank you. Please come to my office.”
* * *
Ailsa sat on her side of the desk and Hannah and Mairead sat side by side opposite her.
“Right, Mairead. You first. What do you allege you saw?”
Mairead repeated her experiences in a voice that barely registered above a whisper. When she had finished, Ailsa moved on to Hannah.
“You saw something similar on your dress rehearsal.”
“Yes, Ailsa.”
“And that’s all you’ve seen?”
Hannah caught Mairead’s eye. “Something else happened.” She explained her strange encounter. Ailsa listened, occasionally tapping the desk with her pen.
“It does seem remarkably similar to the girl today. The question is, what caused the hallucination?”
Hannah spoke before thinking. “Why does it have to be a hallucination? Can’t it actually have happened?” Why did she have to open her mouth at that precise moment? What was the matter with her today?
Ailsa’s lips narrowed. “It can’t have happened because things like that don’t happen. A trick of the light. Hallucination. Too little sleep. Have yo
u been sleeping well, Hannah?”
“Well, no, actually—”
Ailsa slammed her hand on the desk. “There you have it. Hannah was suffering from lack of sleep and that girl? At her age anything could be responsible. Wishful thinking. Being impressionable. Drugs.”
Hannah clenched her hands in her lap. Was she being serious? Drugs?
The silence in the room grew deafening until, at last, Ailsa seemed to make up her mind.
“Right, here is what we’re going to do. I don’t want to hear any more about this from either of you, do you understand?”
They both nodded.
“Good. Provided that is the case, I suggest we forget today’s incident. Put it down to mass hysteria or something, I don’t care. But if I find out you’ve been passing this story around, either among the rest of the staff or, God forbid, to the visitors, I shall have no hesitation in dismissing whoever is responsible on the grounds of gross misconduct. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Ailsa.”
“Good. Now I suggest you both go home and, Hannah, you make sure you get a proper night’s sleep.”
Hannah nodded and followed Mairead out of the room.
Once out of earshot, Mairead spoke. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I overreacted. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you the way I did. I’ve been so tired recently and the nightmares.…”
“Let’s put it behind us. Personally I don’t understand why Ailsa reacted like that. This place thrives on ghost stories. Half our visitors come hoping they’ll have a close encounter with something they can’t explain.”
Mairead shrugged. “I think it’s a wee bit odd too, but she’s always been like this. Maybe she doesn’t want Henderson Close to lose credibility or something. I’ve never understood it either.” She passed her hand over her forehead. “I could do with a drink right now.”
“Good idea.”
Mairead rummaged in the side pocket of her dress. “Damn. I’ve left my keys down there.”
“I thought you were supposed to carry them with you?”
“You are, but I found they clanged and jingled so much, it distracted my visitors. Every time I moved, it was like Marley’s ghost, so I discovered a wee hiding place I tuck them into at the foot of the stairs, near the entrance. I’ll get changed and pop down for them. Won’t take a sec.”
