The Ghosts of Honeycombe Farm, Chapter Twelve
Clara and Master Atwell work out a plan.
Emily brought a note from Master Atwell saying that he’d come by. I waited, tired and worried, as the dim November afternoon faded into a pale sunset. There were candles on the kitchen table and a fire in the hearth, enough light to sit by. To soothe myself while waiting for Master Atwell, I took out my embroidery frame and began working on a little golden bee.
Martha and Poppy had left early, taking Rex with them. Emily was with her friend Kath. I was alone with the ghosts, and they were drifting around the house, getting into everything - at least, Will was. Tommy was playing with his blue kitten in Emily’s room.
I felt Will hovering around me. If you’re constantly around ghosts, you become sensitive to their presence. It feels like a chilly mist floating around the room, or around you. I found I could ignore him and go on with whatever I’m doing, or wait to see what he wants. This time I put my embroidery down and waited.
“Are you bored, Will?” I said. “Why aren’t you out in town? Spying on people, scaring women walking alone, doing your usual tricks?”
He floated down and took the chair opposite me. “Ah, darling, there’s no fun out there,” he said, in those hollow tones. “Nobody’s out when it’s so cold. It’s much more interesting here, poking around and seeing what you get up to.”
I ground my teeth. “I’m not ‘darling’ to you.”
“All right, all right,” he said soothingly. “And who are you darling to, since it’s not me anymore? The school master? I go to the school and watch him teach, you know. Want to watch this man who seems to be influencing my Emily girl.”
I said nothing to that, thinking it was a good thing Will didn’t materialize to anyone but Emily and me. Too much effort, probably.
“He likes you, Clara darling. I’m quite jealous,” he chortled. “I think I’ll try to scare him off. Like this.” He jumped up and flew around the room waving his arms, and landed in front of me with a thump. He bared his phosphorescent teeth and glared with those dark pits of eyes.
“You can certainly make yourself look ugly,” I said tartly. “Is that how you seduced that poor girl in Ralston?”
Will gave that eerie laugh and sat down in front of me again. “Now Clara-my-girl, do I sense a tiny bit of jealousy here, hmm? Want me back? You can have me back, you know? All you have to do is say so.” He held his reddish, ghostly arms out and smiled.
A ripple of revulsion went through me.
“Oh, go away,” I said. “She can have you. Although,” I added, “If she had any sense, she’d tell you to push off.”
“Well then, I believe I will go out,” Will said, offended. “Not going to hang around where I’m not wanted. Let’s see what the lads are up to in the pub, or if any of my old girls are drinking there. There’s one girl, Betty, she has huge, you know” - making round motions in front of his chest to indicate big breasts. “Maybe I’ll slip a hand up her skirt, nibble on her ear, give her a little fright. What do you think of that, Clara darling?”
I took up my embroidery again. “If that’s your idea of fun.”
I knew the Betty he was talking about: a fine, big, red-faced, drinking sort of girl who didn’t mind sleeping with other women’s husbands - didn’t mind at all.
“Yeah, think that’s what I’ll do.” And he vanished.
I sighed with relief. Then he popped up again with a smirk on his face: “Hark,” he said. “I hear the Atwell man approaching. He’ll be knocking on the door in a moment, so settle your skirts and be ready! Goodbye!”
****
“Good evening, Mistress Flanders,” John Atwell said. He took his hat off and smiled.
I looked at him, taking in again his tall height, his mild brown eyes and strong nose; his mustache and firm lips. I was definitely attracted; especially having heard from Anne that he had a liking for me. But I tried to put all that aside for now.
“Good evening, Master Atwell. Let me take your coat.”
“It’s damp, I’m afraid. Got caught in a drizzle earlier.”
“I’ll put it by the fire to dry.”
I caught his healthy male odor as he took off the coat and handed it to me, and it made me bite my lip.
“I see you baked saffron cake, Mrs. Flanders,” he said appreciatively, glancing around the warm kitchen, at the leaping firelight and the table set with cake and tea. “Kind of you to remember I like it.”
“Not at all. Please sit. Tea?” I poured some into the cups waiting on the table.
He took his cup, stirred sugar into it. “Mrs. Flanders, you have something you want to discuss,” he said. “It’s not about Emily, is it?”
“No. Although it concerns her too. I have a very strange problem, and I’m hoping you can help me resolve it.” I hesitated. “It’s dangerous. If you chose to help, you may come into danger too.”
“How mysterious,” he said calmly.
“You see, I have - we have - “
“Ghosts,” John Atwell said.
I gasped. “How did you know?”
He looked at me kindly. “There’s been talk in town, Mrs. Flanders. People gossip about a baby crying here every night. About your servants sleeping at home nowadays. They wonder - all kinds of things. And Emily’s been acting differently this past month or so. Always tired and sad. Sometimes angry for no reason. I would have left it alone, except that yesterday, when she brought your note, she talked to me. About her father and little brother coming back.”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. The situation was a mess, and I was embarrassed to admit that it was I who’d created it. But if I was to fix the mess, I’d have to get help from anyone willing.
I cleared my throat. “Did she tell you that we can’t send them back, that we tried, but can’t?”
“She told me.”
“Then you know we’re in danger. If the village discovers the truth, they’ll convene a Council. They’ll summon me, then summon Martha and Poppy to testify, then send me to Sir Fane for punishment. You know the punishment.”
He nodded, serious. He didn’t need to say “Hanging.”
“And if I resist arrest, you know there’ll be a few hooligans only too happy to break in and drag me out. Emily too.”
He stood up and walked over to the fireplace, frowning. “You must get rid of the ghosts soon, before the truth becomes known.”
“I can’t do it alone, Mr. Atwell,” I said, looking up from my chair at the table. “I have to take Emily and go to Teluna, and there find a magician or witch powerful enough to do it, or teach me how.
“Right,” he said, rapping a knuckle on the mantelpiece. “You must leave very soon. Undetected, if possible. I can think of a few fools who might try to prevent you.”
I was glad to see that he was invested in my problem. It was a lot to ask. But I’d known he would.
“I’ll find a way. But I can’t leave the ghosts alone in the house. Someone has to be here to keep them in hand, more or less. Will is bored and restless, already he makes mischief in town. He’s perfectly capable of telling one of his old friends that he’s still here, half-incarnated. If he’s traced back to my house, the whole story will pop open, and no one will deal with Honeycombe anymore.”
I stood to face him in the flickering firelight. “Do you see what it would turn into? Even if Sir Fane showed mercy, the villagers would shun us and warn traders away. I wouldn’t be able to pay my workers,” I continued, breathing rapidly as the picture built up in my mind. “I’d have to sell everything and return the tenancy to Sir Fane. Emily and I’d be unwelcome everywhere, we’d roam the country with a bad name, and eventually… who knows what we’d be reduced to.”
Master Atwell took my hands in his. “Now wait a moment,” he said. “You must calm yourself to think best.”
“I have done my best to remain calm,” I said, swallowing.
“And so you have,” he said. “Not many women would, with such troubles.” He gave me a quick smile. “Come sit down again, and we’ll work out a plan.” He indicated the two armchairs by the hearth and waited for me to settle down before taking one himself.
“It’s frightening but the worst doesn’t have to happen. I will stay with the ghosts until either you return or you get them exorcised. That’s what you invited me here for, isn’t it? To ask me to sleep here while you’re gone. Well, I will.”
I leaned forward to look into his kind, serious face. “I thank you, Master Atwell.”
I took a breath and added, “Martha and Poppy will continue working in the house, if they know you’re here. They will look after you. I’ll tell them to leave you supper before they go home in the evening, and a good breakfast every morning.”
“I’ll grow fat,” he laughed. “Everyone knows what a good cook Martha is.” He held my gaze for a moment. “I think it’s time you called me John.” He leaned back in his chair.
“And it’s time you called me Clara,” I said softly. I met his eyes; we both turned away hastily. I think we both were thinking, this isn’t the time, maybe later.
“So,” John said, collecting himself. “How do I keep Will entertained? I can’t offer him drinks. Not that I ever drank with him when he was in life.”
“You’re not known to drink much,” I said, smiling. “Will used to like playing backgammon. Do you have a board you can bring over?” I rubbed my forehead. “Let me see, what else. Ah. He knows all the old country songs and rhymes. He used to talk to the old men who’d sit in the forge to stay warm, get them to remember. Probably picked up a lot of scurrilous stuff from his cronies in the pub, too.”
“Backgammon and old songs,” John said thoughtfully. “I can do something with that. But I hope he gives me a few hours’ sleep, nights. I have to be in the schoolhouse by seven. And what about Tommy, what does he do?”
I closed my eyes, thinking of the little white phantom. “He might cry, especially with Emily gone. He does like Will. Maybe he’ll be happier here if Will is present, not rousting around making trouble.”
“Well then. This is what I propose. I will walk over to the inn and speak to Master Campos on your behalf. I’ll have to take him into my confidence, but I’m sure he can be trusted.
“He has carts coming in and going out with deliveries all the time. One of them can pick you and Emily up very early and drive you to Teluna. Nobody would know, if Campos orders it at the last minute and gives no time for comment or questions. In Teluna, you’d make inquiries and hopefully find a magic practitioner to help you.”
I thought it over. It seemed a good plan; indeed the only plan to get us out of Honeycombe that I could think of.
“Good. Please talk to Master Campos,” I said. “I’m sure you can persuade him.”
“He has a soft spot for you, as everyone knows.”
I smiled faintly. “Yes?”
“Well that’s my strong point. He will want to help you. From a safe distance though; he won’t risk damaging his name or business.”
I laughed. “You know your man.”
“It is risky, you know,” he said, watching me. “Assuming Campos agrees, there’s still ordering the driver to pick you up. He might refuse, cart drivers are always in a hurry and don’t like transporting people. Then we’d have to think again. And have you thought about highway robbers?”
“Anne has thought about them,” I said. “Anne Walker, the midwife. She’s my close friend. She travels around a lot too, but everyone respects her, even robbers. I suppose they have wives too. She says she’ll borrow her husband’s pistol for me. Which terrifies me. I’ve never shot a firearm in my life.”
“Good idea,” John said. “She’ll teach you how to use it. I hope you won’t have to. You understand that once in Teluna, you and Emily are on your own. Do you have plenty of ready money? You’ll need it.”
“Lots of money to keep the robbers happy,” I said cheerfully.
John was silent for a moment, then he said, “I’m glad to see how strong you are. All right. I’ll go to the inn now and talk to Campos about all this. You’ll hear from me tomorrow, after school is over. Be ready to leave the day after, if it can be managed. In the meantime, get that pistol.” He buttoned himself into his coat.
I opened the door and watched John Atwell walk briskly away into the dark.
Start reading The Ghosts of Honeycombe Farm from Chapter One.
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