The Haunting of Highdown Hall (26 page)

“Geoffrey,” Ruby explained, “you have
always
been wanted, by the love and the light from which you came. Call it God, the Universe, the Higher Power, it doesn’t matter; they’re one and the same. And the light wants you back, Mr Rawlings, you are part of
it.”

Rawlings looked at her steadily as she said these words, the misery that had filled his eyes for far too long slowly dissolving. He then looked right through her, to the far side of the room, the opposite side to where Cash and the dog waited. Hesitantly at first he moved forward, his gait as awkward as it had been in old age, painful almost, but with every step he gained in confidence. The closer to the light he got, the younger he became, the ravages of time reversing. Suddenly, he stopped.

Will you take care of my dog?

The dog? She already had a ghost dog to contend with, now she’d have a live one too? Neither of whom she’d asked for. Looking at the canine clutched in Cash’s arms, his eyes still trained on his master, his little brown body quivering, she relented. That dog loved his master, refuting his claim that nobody wanted him, the dog obviously did, very much so and his heart was breaking. Rawlings seemed to sense that and the smile on his face widened.

Ruby?

“Yes,” she said at last. “I’ll take care of the dog. What’s his name?”

Daisy.

Oh, a girl then. Pretty name.

Goodbye.

“Goodbye, Geoffrey,” she whispered after him.

“Has he gone?” said Cash, rising with Daisy, whining inconsolably, still in his arms.

“He’s gone.”

“And you’ve inherited another dog?”

“Looks like it.”

“Shall we call the police now?”

“Yes,” said Ruby, retrieving her mobile phone from her jacket pocket and starting to dial. “We’ll stay until they arrive and then I’ll head back to Waitrose, get some dog food.”

Chapter Twenty-One

After introducing Daisy to her new home, Ruby turned her attentions to Jed, warning the happy, excited Labrador that he had to give the new addition some space – Daisy had had a hard day and the last thing she needed was a ghost dog sniffing around her, but not to worry, she’d come round, in time. Jed’s wagging tail faltered slightly at her words but he obligingly went and settled on Ruby’s bed, leaving Daisy safe and snug on Cash’s lap in the living room. Opening a bottle of red wine, Ruby grabbed two glasses and went through to him.

“I hope Jed isn’t going to be jealous of her,” Cash worried.

“I don’t think there’s a jealous bone in Jed’s body. They’ll rub along together just fine in time, I’m sure.”

Ruby poured a generous measure into both their glasses, handed one to him then clinked hers against it.

“Cheers,” Cash smiled back at her.

“I know I shouldn’t be sad,” she said after taking a sip, “I know he is where he’s supposed to be, but I wish we’d visited him sooner. Just to let him know that we cared. That we appreciated what he’d done for us.”

“I know what you mean,” Cash nodded. “He may have done some dreadful things, but he seemed so, I don’t know... so abandoned at the end, not just by people, but by life itself.”

“Abandoned?” said Ruby, her head to one side. “That’s how he said Cynthia felt, even though she was the one who left the family home in search of fame and fortune. From what I can gather, her mother and brother didn’t have anything to do with her after she left. You’d think they would have, wouldn’t you, if only to congratulate her on her success.”

“Maybe they thought it would give the wrong impression if they did, who knows. Or perhaps fame just didn’t impress them; they simply wanted to get on with their own lives without the fuss that being related to Cynthia would inevitably bring. Besides, families don’t always stick together, we know that.”

“I suppose,” said Ruby, knowing he was referring to the absent fathers in both their lives.

Cash interrupted her thoughts.

“How old would Cynthia be now if she were still alive?”

“Eighty-eight,” Ruby replied.

“Not excessively old these days,” Cash mused. “There must be someone alive who knew her, somebody who can give us an insight into the real Cynthia.”

“Quite a few of the acting elite I should imagine, but I don’t think they’ll grant us an audience somehow.”

“No, shame that."

“Her brother was younger than her by two years; he may well still be alive. But even if he is, we don’t have enough time left to wade through all the Jack Harts I’ve found.”

“Besides which, we need someone who knew Cynthia post-childhood, really.”

“Hmm... yeah, that’s true.”

Cash thought for a second.

“Didn’t Mr Kierney say he had another aunt as well as Sally? She must have come down to Highdown Hall at some point to visit her sister – perhaps she’s still alive?”

Ruby wracked her brains.

“Yes... I think he did. Esme wasn’t it? Though from what he said she sounded a bit out of it, probably why she didn’t inherit the Hall.”

“Let’s find out. I know it’s a long shot but it could prove significant.”

“You’re right; I don’t know much about Sally either, except that she became a bit of a recluse after Cynthia passed, shutting herself up at Highdown Hall. A bit more information about her could be useful.”

Cash looked suspicious.

“You don’t think it’s her, do you? The second rogue spirit? Beneath her devotion a woman obsessed.”

Ruby laughed.

“That had crossed my mind too; Sally, by all accounts, was almost unnaturally devoted to her mistress, but no, I don’t think so. The second energy is definitely male. Sally’s not the culprit here.”

“But she might have known who was and she might have told someone close to her.”

“It’s possible,” Ruby nodded, slowly at first and then more eagerly.

She couldn’t help herself; she leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re a genius sometimes, Cash, you know that?”

***

Despite it being early on a Saturday morning, Ruby phoned Mr Kierney.

“I hope this is good news,” was his curt greeting.

“Mr Kierney,” Ruby entreated, “I believe we’re closer to ridding Highdown Hall of Cynthia than we have ever been. I just need... erm... some more information from you.”

“From me? Why?”

“Your aunt, Sally Threadgold, does she have any other surviving relatives? Apart from you that is.”

“What the hell has that got to do with anything?” Mr Kierney exploded.

“Mr Kierney, please,” Ruby held firm, “humour me, it may be relevant. Does she?”

Perhaps impressed by the conviction in her voice, he complied, if begrudgingly so.

“I’ve told you before, my mother, Sally’s sister, is dead. But there is another sister, the youngest of the three, Esme, who is still alive. She used to work at Highdown Hall too on occasion. She lives in London, but I don’t see how she can help, she’s practically senile.”

Worked at Highdown Hall?
“She could be very helpful indeed,” Ruby tried to keep the excitement out of her voice. “She might be able to shed some light onto a particular situation we’re investigating. Would it be okay for us to visit her?”

“She still lives at home, in the East End. I suppose I could ask her. But don’t go upsetting her. Like I said, she’s fragile.”

“I promise I won’t, I just want to ask her a few simple questions, the answers to which could be very useful to us.”

“I don’t see what good it will do – but it’s on your time, not mine, so why should I worry? God knows, she rarely gets visitors; I just don’t have the time. When do you want to see her?”

Knowing there was no time to waste, Ruby said hopefully, “As soon as possible, basically. Today?”

There was silence for a few moments and then Mr Kierney spoke again. “Look, I’ll call to check first and ring you back.”

***

They could indeed see Mr Kierney’s aunt later that day. Ruby called round at Cash’s flat and together they took Daisy for a quick walk beside the River Ouse, which winds through Lewes on its way to the sea, before depositing her at Cash’s mum’s, also in Lewes. Ruby waited round the corner while Cash handed the dog over and told her they’d be back to collect her later that day. She didn’t want her first meeting with his mum to be a hurried one. Catching the noon train to London, Ruby estimated they should be at Mrs Esme Harris’s house around two o’clock that afternoon.

“I hope we’re not on a hiding to nothing here,” Cash said as they took their seats on the surprisingly empty train.

“Like you said, it’s a long shot but one worth exploring.”

Noting he still looked worried, she elaborated. “We’ve got no choice but to explore every avenue. Theo, Ness and Corinna haven’t been able to come up with anything other than generic information regarding Cynthia either. She really was squeaky clean, publicly at least. Even her dalliance with Lytton was never made public. If Sally’s sister worked at Highdown Hall on occasion, she might be able to give us the insight into Cynthia’s character we need, an insight into those around her too with luck. At this point, any bloody insight will do. We have to find out what lay beneath that perfectly smiling face of hers.”

“The diva beneath the princess you mean?”

“Exactly. A diva who trod on some toes on her way to the top it seems, particularly hard on one person’s at least. We know it isn’t John Sterling lying in wait for her, despite the fact she maddened him by refusing to commit to him, but it’s definitely someone who feels wronged by her for some reason. Despite her reputation, I don’t think she was entirely made of sugar and spice.”

“The attack on Corinna certainly doesn’t suggest she was,” said Cash grimly.

“No, nor does the energy surrounding her bed. Cynthia was a woman of extreme tastes I think.”

“Ugh,” said Cash, shuddering. “Seriously, there are times I’m glad I’m not psychic.”

Laughing, Ruby relaxed back into her seat, gazing out of the window as the Sussex and Surrey countryside gave way to the suburbs of London and finally, the city itself.

Her calculations had been correct; they arrived at Esme’s address, a humble Victorian terrace in the East End of London, during early afternoon. Ringing the doorbell, Ruby felt nerves flutter in her stomach. She hoped their enquiries would only stir up good memories for the old woman, nothing that would cause her distress. She’d had it with heart attacks.

Instead of someone frail and supposedly senile, as Mr Kierney had suggested, a spritely woman, obviously in her eighties but looking very good for it, opened the door.

“Hello,” she said, a slight waiver in her voice. “My nephew phoned to say you were paying me a visit.”

“Hello,” said Ruby, extending her hand. “Yes, I’m Ruby Davis and this is my colleague, Cash Wilkins. Thank you so much for agreeing to see us.”

“It’s a delight, dear. I don’t get many visitors nowadays. Come in.”

The small, bird-like woman ushered them down a narrow hallway – which appeared even narrower because of the floral wallpaper – into a living room, also very floral and packed to the hilt with ornaments. They were on the mantelpiece, the window sill, the sideboard, everywhere.

Indicating for them to sit down on the two-seater sofa, thankfully plain in colour, Esme enquired how she could help them.

“We’re investigating Cynthia Hart,” Ruby began.

“Investigating, dear?” Esme looked confused. “My nephew didn’t say you were the police.”

“No, we’re not,” Ruby quickly reassured her. How much had Mr Kierney imparted to Esme about what was happening at Highdown Hall she wondered. Probably nothing at all.

Not wanting to exploit the ‘I’m a psychic trying to help a grounded spirit move towards the light’ angle, she opted for the explanation she had given to the first Mr Rawlings instead, that she and Cash were students documenting the life of Cynthia Hart.

“Mr Kierney said you worked occasionally at Highdown Hall, alongside your sister, Sally.”

“Highdown Hall? Yes indeed I did, a long time ago now though, dear,” sighed Esme, somewhat misty-eyed. Brightening, she continued. “Isn’t it strange that the Hall belongs to our family now, who’d have thought it? Not me, and certainly not Sally, I can tell you. You could have knocked her down with a feather when she learnt Cynthia had left it to her.”

Offering them tea, Esme tottered off to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a tray laden with biscuits as well as a china pot and three china cups.

“Here, let me take that,” said Cash, jumping immediately to his feet.

“What a lovely young man,” Esme winked at Ruby, handing the tray over to him. “Never much liked foreigners, so many of them in London nowadays, but you’re rather intriguing, my dear, a pleasing colour.”

Cash looked slightly taken aback. Sitting back down, he said “Er, thank you, I think.”

Biting down on her amusement, Ruby examined further the mantelpiece. On it were pictures of Esme, she presumed, in her younger years. One on her wedding day, standing formally beside a much taller man, he dressed in a dark suit, she in a knee-length cream dress that nipped in at the waist and then flared out again into a flattering full skirt. In contrast, there was a much more relaxed picture of her standing in between two women, their arms thrown about each other’s shoulders, all of them with big grins on their faces. Her two sisters perhaps – Sally, and Alan Kierney’s mother.