Secrets and Seashells at Rainbow Bay

by Ali McNamara

‘I sent him off with Joey for the morning, so you could sleep in.’

  ‘Thanks, what’s Joey doing today?’

  ‘They’ve taken Chester for a walk along the beach, I believe. You might see them if you look out of the window.’

  I walk over to the window, but I can’t see Charlie or Joey in amongst the several groups of people walking their dogs along the beach this morning.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Benji asks.

  ‘Rough.’

  ‘I thought you would be. Tom said you had a fair few yesterday.’

  ‘Yeah . . . how . . . how did I get to bed last night?’ I ask tentatively. ‘Everything from the pub onwards is a bit hazy.’

  ‘Tom brought you back and managed to get you up the stairs, and then I helped you into your bed.’

  I look down at my pyjamas.

  ‘Yes, I helped you into those as well – you did most of it, mind,’ Benji insists when he sees the look of dismay on my face. ‘I was very discreet.’

  ‘Oh good,’ I say, still feeling embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry I caused so much trouble, Benji, and that you had to stay over.’

  Benji shrugs. ‘Not a problem. Besides, you have much better views here than I do from my room. I enjoyed seeing the stars last night and the sunrise this morning – nature at its very best!’

  ‘Unlike me,’ I reply dismally. ‘I am not at my very best right now.’

  ‘Aw, don’t fret it,’ Benji says, putting his book down and coming over to me. ‘We all have our off days.’ He puts his arm around me, and the simple act feels only comforting as he pulls me closer. ‘How about I pop downstairs and make you that cup of tea – lots of sugar this morning?’

  ‘Two will be plenty, thanks.’

  ‘Two it is. Too early for a fry-up?’

  I pull a face. ‘Yeah, I’m not quite up to that just yet.’

  ‘I thought so. Back in a jiffy.’

  I go back over to the open window and breathe in the fresh sea air that’s filtering steadily through it, and my queasiness is eased temporarily.

  I hate being a burden to people, but that’s just what I feel like I’d been last night. I should have limited myself to a couple of drinks, but then I would have offended people, and I hate doing that too.

  Who would have thought that my biggest dilemma so far since taking on this castle would be accepting drinks from the locals down the village pub!

  ‘One cup of builders’ tea,’ Benji says, appearing at the top of the stairs with two mugs. ‘Here, get that down you; you might start to feel a bit more normal again then.’

  I sip slowly on the mug of tea.

  ‘Talking of builders, do you know some of Bill’s gang are in this morning?’ Benji says amiably.

  ‘On a Saturday?’

  ‘Yup, apparently they’re running a bit behind.’

  ‘I knew it!’

  ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist – the red ones,’ Benji winks, and I grimace, that’s exactly the colour I’d been wearing last night. ‘They’re only a day or two behind. That’s why they’re working over the weekend to get back on schedule. I’ve never seen such well-behaved builders. You certainly have them under control.’

  I shrug. ‘I made it very clear to Bill that the work must not over-run, and that we will be opening on the thirtieth of June come what may. Otherwise there will be penalties.’

  Benji salutes. ‘Yes, sir! Whatever you say, sir!’

  ‘Funny,’ I reply drolly. ‘It’s important we get this new venture up and running as soon as possible.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. I think you’ve done a marvellous job since you got here, actually – you’ve really stepped up.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Change isn’t easy to implement, especially in somewhere as old as this. I think everyone has taken it really well.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ I begin when suddenly we hear a commotion coming from the outside. ‘What’s that?’ I ask, looking at Benji.

  ‘No idea.’ Benji stands up and heads over to the window that looks over the courtyard.

  I follow him.

  ‘It looks like Arthur is talking to one of the builders,’ Benji says, still looking out of the window. ‘I’ve no idea why their voices are raised, though. Actually, strike that, it’s the builder that’s doing all the shouting.’

  I watch for a moment and Benji is right, one of Bill’s men, who I think is called Ed, appears to be remonstrating with Arthur.

  ‘I’d better go and see what’s going on,’ I say, putting down my tea.

  ‘But you’re not dressed,’ Benji says.

  I look down. ‘Ah, it’ll have to do – I’ll grab a dressing gown on my way downstairs.’

  ‘Good luck,’ Benji calls as I leave the top floor. ‘It looks like you’re going to need it.’

  I hurry down the spiral staircase as fast as I can in my delicate state. Pleased as I exit from the dimly lit tower into the bright sunshine, that I’ve grabbed a pair of sunglasses on the way down as well as my dressing gown.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I call as I hurry across the gravel.

  ‘Ah, about time – the organ grinder and not just the aged monkey,’ Ed says, glaring at Arthur.

  I notice Ed’s hands are covered in white plaster, as though he’s simply dropped whatever he was doing to come to talk to Arthur.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Ed,’ I tell him. ‘Arthur?’ I ask, looking at him now. ‘Would you like to explain?’

  ‘Ask him,’ Arthur says grumpily. ‘He’s the one spouting all the nonsense.’

  ‘Well?’ I turn back to Ed.

  Ed suddenly looks a tad embarrassed. ‘There’s been an . . . incident,’ he says eventually, ‘that has meant we’ve had to down tools.’

  ‘What sort of an incident?’ I ask, terrified he’s going to say a severed limb, a nasty fall or worse.

  ‘We all heard it,’ Ed says, looking shiftily down at the ground.

  ‘Heard what?’

  ‘The horse. The horse neighing, and the sound of its hooves across the floor.’ He looks up. ‘Except there was no horse – only the sound of it.’

  I’m listening intently now. This is exactly what I’d heard in the stables, the day Bill first came to see us.

  ‘Don’t talk nonsense, man,’ Arthur says. ‘Are you still hungover? I heard a load of you were down the pub last night.’ He glances at me knowingly, and now it’s my turn to look shamefully at the ground.

  ‘Not me,’ Ed says, shaking his head. ‘I knew I was working this morning, so I was at home watching Netflix. I was, and still am, stone-cold sober. That’s why I know what I saw.’

  I notice for the first time that Ed’s face is almost as white as his hands.

  ‘Saw?’ I ask. ‘You said you heard the sound of a horse.’

  ‘I said several of us heard the horse. But only I saw it.’

  ‘Saw what exactly?’

  Ed takes a deep breath, and I see along with his pale complexion, he’s actually trembling. ‘After the weird sounds, we all went back to work. None of us could explain what had happened so we all thought we’d better try and forget about it. But then I saw a man riding a horse.’ He looks at me. ‘Nothing odd in that, except when the man rides the horse right through the wall you’re plastering, then you start to think something isn’t quite right.’

  ‘You saw a man ride a horse through a wall?’

  ‘Yeah, one of the new partition walls we’ve only just put up.’

  ‘What did this man look like?’

  ‘Miss Amelia, I really don’t think—’ Arthur begins.

  ‘Arthur, I really do think,’ I warn him. ‘Carry on, Ed. Can you describe him?’

  Ed nods. ‘He was wearing a uniform – like the sort you often see on kids’ toy soldiers. You know, like a red jacket and one of them mayor type hats.’ He tries to describe what he means by drawing an invisible triangle over his head.

  ‘Do you mean a tricorne?’ Arthur asks scornfully.

  ‘Yes, that’s
exactly what they’re called,’ I say, nodding. ‘What else?’ I ask Ed eagerly.

  ‘He was wearing white, maybe cream-coloured breeches and black boots, and he had long hair – braided long hair,’ Ed is now the one to sound scornful.

  ‘When would that be the uniform for?’ I ask Arthur.

  Arthur shrugs.

  ‘Come on, Arthur, I know you know,’ I say encouragingly.

  ‘Possibly around the seventeen hundreds,’ Arthur says begrudgingly. ‘Perhaps a little later.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I turn back to Ed. ‘And you say he rode his horse right through a wall?’

  Ed nods. ‘Like I said, the one I was just plastering.’

  ‘You must have seen the ghost of an eighteenth-century soldier,’ I tell him. ‘What other explanation is there for it?’

  ‘I know,’ he says, shaking his head. ‘If it had happened to anyone else I wouldn’t have believed you – I don’t believe in that sort of stuff, never have done. But I know what I saw.’

  ‘Think you saw,’ Arthur says.

  ‘Know I saw,’ Ed repeats.

  ‘I believe you,’ I tell Ed. ‘I’ve heard things too since I’ve been here, and I think I might have seen something as well. I can’t be one hundred per cent sure I wasn’t dreaming with that one, to be fair,’ I say, looking up at the tower. ‘But I’ve definitely witnessed some odd things.’

  ‘Thank you, miss. But the problem is the lads saw me after I’d seen the . . . the thing, white as a ghost I was, funnily enough.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘But the problem is now they won’t go back in the building because they think it’s haunted.’

  ‘And as I was telling you just a few minutes ago,’ Arthur says, ‘you can’t just down tools because you think you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘Try telling them that,’ Ed says. ‘They’re all scared shi— I mean, they’re really spooked by this.’

  ‘But you have a contract,’ Arthur says. ‘The work must be finished for the opening in two weeks.’

  Ed shrugs. ‘You’d better get the local priest in, then – perform an exorcism or something. Because we are not setting foot in those stables until you can guarantee no more ghosts.’

  Arthur turns to me with a despairing look.

  ‘I don’t know about getting the local priest in,’ I say, watching as two figures and a dog walk through the castle entrance. ‘There might just be another way . . . ’

  Twenty-six

  ‘Mum!’ Charlie calls, running across the gravel to hug me. ‘You’re all right! Benji said you weren’t feeling very well this morning.’

  ‘Yes, I’m fine now,’ I tell him. ‘Have you had a good walk with Joey?’

  ‘Great, thanks. We saw some Arctic terns, a kittiwake, some guillemots, and I got a new shell for my collection.’ He pulls a sand-covered shell proudly from his pocket.

  ‘Excellent!’ I examine the shell in his hand.

  ‘So what’s going on here, then?’ Joey says, looking suspiciously between Arthur, Ed and me. ‘Ed, you’re as white as a ghost, mate.’

  Ed pulls a face.

  ‘Ed has seen what we think is a ghost in the stables this morning,’ I tell Joey, expecting him to look as shocked as Ed.

  ‘Ah,’ Joey nods, ‘that’ll be Jasper.’

  ‘Jasper? Who’s that?’

  ‘Didn’t you tell them this, Arthur?’ Joey asks, looking with surprise at Arthur. ‘Jasper is the ghost that haunts the stables,’ Joey continues when Arthur just shrugs. ‘He’s this dude from the Battle of Culloden that rides his horse through the castle on occasions. I’ve heard him a few times, but only seen him once. He usually appears when he’s not happy about something. Remember when we moved all that gardening equipment out of the stables and into the new sheds His Lordship bought, Arthur? His Lordship decided he might try keeping horses again,’ he says to us when Arthur doesn’t respond. ‘Not that he ever did. He was like that – always dreaming up new schemes he never followed through. Anyway, when we went to empty the stuff, Jasper went a bit ballistic – it was like the Grand National in there for a while.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell us you knew about this ghost?’ I ask Arthur.

  ‘There are ghosts, spirits – whatever you want to call them – everywhere in this castle,’ Arthur says stoutly, breaking his silence. ‘Bound to be in a building as old as this – stands to reason. Doesn’t mean I want to share those details with everyone, does it?’

  I shake my head. I’d ask Arthur about this later. Now I had more important things to deal with – like my builders downing tools.

  ‘Charlie,’ I say, crouching down next to him expecting to be almost level with his face, but suddenly realising that he’s grown since we’ve been here, and now if I do this he’s actually way taller than me, ‘do you think you could talk to Jasper for us?’

  ‘Sure,’ Charlie says, as though I’ve simply asked him to talk to Chester. ‘What do you want me to say?’

  ‘Can you ask him what the problem is? And if we can solve that problem, would he be kind enough to stay away from the stables until the work there is finished?’

  Actually, would he be kind enough to stay away permanently. I don’t think it will go down too well when people are tucking into their sandwiches and cups of tea if a soldier suddenly rides his horse through a wall in front of them.

  But again, I’ll have to deal with that possibility later.

  ‘I can try,’ Charlie says. ‘He might not appear to me if he doesn’t want to, though.’

  ‘But let’s at least try,’ I say, looking encouragingly up at Ed.

  Trying might be enough to get the men back to work . . .

  We all head over to the stables, and now we are joined by Benji too, who on seeing the gathering in the middle of the courtyard had come down to find out what was going on.

  At least we’re not busy with visitors, I think as the motley crew troop across the courtyard towards the stables. Goodness knows what they’d think with me still in my dressing gown and sunglasses, and Ed with his white face and plaster-covered hands.

  There is a row of builders sitting up against the outside wall of the stables – some looking anxious, some looking pleased they’ve been given an excuse to stop work.

  ‘The young fella here is going to try and talk to the ghost,’ Ed says, looking slightly embarrassed that he even has to utter this phrase to his colleagues.

  ‘Should we come in with you?’ I ask Charlie, as Chester darts off for some fuss from the builders.

  ‘Yes, but only you and Chester should come,’ Charlie says firmly. ‘Chester is fine with ghosts, and they’re usually interested in what you’ve got to say, Mum.’

  ‘Really?’ I ask as I put my hand out to the others to stop them following us. ‘That’s a first.’

  Charlie calls Chester, and I follow them into the stables.

  If it wasn’t for the reason we were actually here, I’d actually feel quite pleased and excited as we enter the building. The stables have been transformed into two brightly lit, modern-looking rooms that, except for a lick of paint, look like they might soon be finished.

  ‘What should I do?’ I whisper to Charlie.

  ‘Nothing, I’ll ask Jasper if he’ll come and speak to us, then we just need to wait and see if he wants to. Jasper?’ Charlie calls quietly. ‘Would you be so kind as to come and talk to us? We only want to know what’s wrong. My mum is here to help you.’

  Charlie and I stand in the empty room that’s soon to be the gift shop, surrounded by power tools, pots of paint and a half-plastered wall.

  After a minute or so of silence, Charlie asks again. ‘Please, Jasper – we only want to help.’

  Suddenly Chester, who’s been wandering around sniffing the floor, stands to attention. His nose points forward and his usually waggy tail is stiff behind him.

  I notice the hackles on the back of his neck have risen, too.

  ‘Hello, Jasper,’ I hear Charlie say as I’m still looking at Chester. ‘Thanks for co
ming.’

  I look at the place where Charlie’s gaze is directed, but I can see nothing.

  Charlie looks up in the air, and for a moment I think that Jasper must be about ten feet tall, and then I realise he must be still mounted on his horse.

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Charlie asks. ‘Why are you suddenly scaring the builders?’

  It’s most disconcerting seeing your ten-year-old son talking to an apparently invisible being. It’s a bit like listening to someone on the phone: you can only hear one side of the conversation.

  ‘Yep,’ Charlie says now. ‘Uh-huh . . . Are you sure? . . . Okay, then, I’ll tell Mum.’ Charlie turns back to me. ‘Did you hear any of that?’

  I shake my head.

  ‘Jasper says he was trying to warn the builders there is danger.’

  ‘Danger? Where?’

  ‘In here. Jasper says they’ve done some work that isn’t safe, and if they leave it tragedy will befall the users of this building.’

  ‘Tragedy – what sort of tragedy?’

  Charlie laughs. ‘Jasper says you ask a lot of questions.’

  ‘I should think I do. He comes here and scares the bejesus out of my workmen, then tells me he only did it to warn us of tragedy, but can’t tell us what it is.’

  Charlie looks up into the air again.

  ‘Uh-huh, where? . . . Okay, sure, I’ll tell her that, too. He says there’s something else.’

  ‘More tragedy?’

  ‘No – a key.’

  ‘A key?’

  ‘Yeah, he said, find the key – apparently, it could be important to you.’

  ‘Right, so all Jasper has told you is there’s going to be tragedy and we need to find a key.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Charlie asks. ‘No, I’m not telling her that.’ He shakes his head. ‘No way!’

  ‘What? What is he saying now?’

  Charlie swallows hard. ‘He said a man wouldn’t react in the same way you are. He said women are too emotional and shouldn’t be left in charge.’ I’m proud that Charlie looks mortified to even have to utter these words.

  Chester growls next to me as I stare at the empty space that Charlie has been talking to for the last few minutes.

  And then I laugh. A laugh so deep and throaty, that even I’m not certain where it’s coming from.