The Morrow Secrets (13 page)

Chapter Thirteen
Down Amongst the Dead Things

The next few days went by in a flurry of clandestine activity. Cissie came round to their plan once she accepted they would be safer travelling together. She made parcels of dried food from the kitchen stores and sneaked these to Tallitha whenever the opportunity arose. Esmerelda had her own tried and tested remedies. She packed liquorice cordial for its revival properties, wild barrenwort salve for healing wounds and bitter moonflower for shock and soothing fevers. During her travels Esmerelda had studied the medicinal use of fungi and she prepared shavings of Amethyst Deceiver, Stinkhorn and Dryad’s Saddle. She also packed the Death-Cap and the Green Spotted Lepiota fungi which were deadly poisonous.

At dusk, on the day before their departure, Esmerelda called everyone together. She had instructed them to smuggle their backpacks to her apartment and over the preceding days, one by one, they had done so. Licks and Lap were fawning over their mistress, rubbing up against her legs and generally demanding attention when the others arrived.

‘There, my pretty ones. Cissie will look after you whilst I’m away.’

She stroked their abundant fur as she inspected Tallitha and the boys to make sure they were wearing suitable clothing. Once the three were settled and Esmerelda had poured an elixir of the liquorice cordial, she revealed her plan.

‘I expect you’re wondering why I asked you to bring your bags up to my apartment?’ she said mysteriously. ‘Well, let me show you. I have a secret way of getting to the basement. Come, follow me.’

Esmerelda led them through her sitting room and into a corridor. There before them was a recess containing a large wooden cupboard. ‘Open the doors, Tyaas, and take a look inside.’
It was a fairly unremarkable cupboard and it was empty. ‘What use is this?’ asked Tyaas, sounding bewildered. She was

definitely batty, he thought to himself.

Esmerelda pressed a concealed button and then, from far below, they could hear a low rumbling noise. A smile appeared on Benedict’s face.
‘It’s a dumb waiter!’ he announced.
Slowly the realisation that they would be travelling in the dumb waiter began to sink in.
‘I’m not going down in that thing!’ exclaimed Benedict shrinking away from the whirring cupboard.
‘It’s quite safe. I’ve used it many times and I’m heavier than you. It means we can travel to the basement undetected. It comes out in the kitchens near to the escape tunnel. We’ll use it tomorrow night when the servants are asleep.’
When the cupboard stopped making its noise, Benedict peered inside. He looked horrified.
‘But it’s so small and dark,’ he wailed pathetically.
Esmerelda looked the boy up and down. He was a ninny.
‘Come to my rooms tomorrow at midnight, but make sure everyone in the house is asleep. I’ll be waiting for you. We must have a good day’s start before they discover we’ve gone.’

*

The next night, when all was still, they set off for Esmerelda’s apartment. It was pitch-black and the ancient house had an eerie conspiratorial silence after nightfall. The stair treads creaked and the floor boards groaned until somewhere on the fourth floor they lost their way.

‘Look out!’ whispered Tallitha hoarsely.

Coming down the corridor they saw the flicker of candlelight and the unmistakable long pointed shadow of Grintley ambling along in the darkness. Quickly they backed into one of the apartments and dived under a four poster bed. But the old shrove had heard a noise.

‘What’s that then?’ he mumbled, hopping about and scurrying down the corridor.
Grintley followed them into the room just seconds after they had hidden themselves. He sniffed the air and peered into the gloomy interior. They held their breath and waited as he shuffled towards the huge bed. Then all at once there was a scurry as Licks and Lap jumped out of nowhere and made for the door.
‘Damn critters,’ he swore, kicking the cats and hobbling down the corridor after them.
Esmerelda’s butterscotch cats had saved them!
‘Come on, he’s gone,’ mumbled Tyaas, poking his nose round the door.
Eventually they located the enclosed staircase that led straight up to Esmerelda’s apartment.
Their elder cousin was dressed for the part. She wore riding breeches and a dark moleskin jacket and her hair was tied in a long pony tail. She handed each of them a selection of brown coloured leaves to chew.
‘This is mugwort. Its special properties are used for maintaining energy. Keep it safe and chew at least three leaves each morning. Hurry, Cissie will be waiting at the bottom.’
Tyaas raised his eyes and winked at his sister. Esmerelda was a strange one for a Morrow woman. It was the servants who used these old fashioned remedies. He chewed the bitter leaves and pulled a disgusted face.
Tyaas went first, his eyes gleaming with excitement. It was a tight fit and he had to tuck his knees up under his chin. As the doors closed he shouted, ‘Make it go faster!’
‘It isn’t a fairground ride. Now, sit tight,’ instructed Esmerelda and pressed the button.
The whirring started and Tyaas waited for the huge rush, but he was disappointed. It was much too slow for his liking. The bags went rumbling down next. Then it was Benedict’s turn. He hesitated and looked quite peaky. As the dumb waiter came back up the shaft, whatever nerve he had, failed. He felt unsteady and looked at Tallitha for reassurance. Why was it, his cousins could happily do these adventurous things without a moment’s hesitation and he was so fearful?
‘Come on Benedict, don’t be chicken,’ teased Tallitha, gently pushing him forward.
Benedict eased backwards into the cupboard feeling helpless in the dark.
‘Pull your legs up,’ instructed Tallitha as she pushed him further inside.
Benedict tucked in his wobbly legs, wrapping his arms tightly round his knees and closed his eyes tight shut.
‘Oh no,’ he wailed as the cupboard trundled down the shaft.
It was ghastly in the total darkness of the wooden cupboard. The whirring noise of the dumb waiter inched down its rickety shaft, making Benedict’s heart race. He could feel every rumble and thump as he imagined the flimsy box plummeting below and smashing into a hundred pieces. Down and down he went. He braced himself for disaster but with a final shudder he reached the basement. He was sweating but he was safe.
At the bottom they followed Cissie through the shadowy kitchen, past the sculleries where the smell of freshly laundered washing filled their nostrils, down the steps into the lower basement and along a stone-flagged passageway to a door at the end. It was much colder in the deep cellars and Tallitha’s insides were awash with foreboding. She could hear the drains flowing beneath them and the sound of water drip-dripping in the gloom.
‘The entrance to the tunnel is just behind those tanks,’ said Esmerelda, pushing open the door to the boiler room.
The heavy metal door was encrusted with lichens and Tallitha’s heart sank.
‘What’s it like in there?’ asked Benedict shivering.
‘It’s pitch-black and icy cold,’ said Esmerelda buttoning up her jacket.
Tyaas located the key and pushed it firmly into the lock. At first it would not budge. Esmerelda and Cissie lent their combined weight against the door and eventually the key turned and clicked. The metal door creaked open uncertainly on its hinges, letting wafts of freezing air into the boiler room. Inside the dark tunnel the old stone walls were grimy, soaked and blackened over the years from oozing, trickling water. The stench of stale air hit Tallitha in the face. It was going to be grim in this dark, wet place.
‘You’ll have to be brave, it’s the only way to get out of the Spires without being seen,’ urged Esmerelda watching their apprehensive faces in the candlelight.
They wrapped themselves up against the cold. As Tallitha turned to say farewell to Cissie, her nurse began fussing, giving them last minute advice and extra provisions.
‘Take this, Tyaas,’ she said handing him a bag of fruit. ‘Tallitha, have you packed your warmest clothes?’
‘We’ll be fine. Please don’t fret,’ said Tallitha putting her arm around her nurse.
But it was all too much and Cissie began to dab her eyes. ‘I’m frettin’ about what’s ahead of you. Look after them Esmerelda,’ she pleaded, pushing a piece of paper into her hand. ‘These are the directions to my brother’s farm, should you need them. There’ll be a welcome for you, aye and a good hot meal. This will vouch for you.’
Cissie blew her nose and forced back more tears.
‘Off you go. You mustn’t get caught down here,’ said Esmerelda urgently.
They gave Cissie one last hug and stepped into the dark tunnel. As the door clanged shut behind them the hollow sound reverberated down the empty tunnel. Then they found themselves in total darkness and the kind of bone-coldness that took their breath away.
Esmerelda hurriedly lit the lantern and indicated for the others to follow her. As the candle spluttered and flicked its meagre light down the tunnel, an abundance of fat brown rats squeaked and scurried away, trying to escape through the gaps at the bottom of the wall. Tallitha screamed and jumped onto Benedict’s back. Tyaas laughed and kicked one of the rats as far as he could.
‘Take that!’ he shouted with pleasure as a fat brown rat spun in the air and landed splat in the muddy water with its legs in the air.
‘Be quiet, can’t you!’ Esmerelda shot them a desperate look and pointed nervously above her, ‘we don’t know who’s up there, listening.’
They stared at the uneven roof which was dripping brown water. The tunnel walls were built of grey-green stones, splattered with the slimy marks of trickling moisture that had seeped out over the years. Green moss hung in web-like strands from the ceiling, trailing and catching in their hair. Underfoot was wet and slippery and the atmosphere was dank and putrid.
‘It smells awful,’ said Tyaas holding his nose. ‘Errrr, what is this place?’
Esmerelda did not reply and hurried them onward. Big spiders and fat beetles scurried away at the noise of the four intruders.
‘Not much further. Keep together. We’ll be at the end soon. There are steps up to the next level,’ said Esmerelda as she stepped through the dirty trickling water underfoot.
The tunnel narrowed and they turned sideways to squeeze through the shrinking space. Then round a slight bend and Esmerelda began climbing upwards.
‘Where does it lead to?’ asked Benedict, his eyes staring in the candlelight.
‘You’ll see soon enough,’ said Esmerelda mysteriously.
At the top of the steps was a stone arch with lettering carved around the lintel.
‘Lift the lantern so I can see,’ whispered Tallitha, beginning to read out the warning.

‘Take care and be still so as not to awake the sleepers, all ye who enter here.’

‘Creepy, what does that mean?’ she said, as she passed underneath. They stood huddled together in a large vaulted chamber. The walls had ledges along them and long wooden boxes sitting on each ledge. ‘Is this what I think it is?’ asked Tallitha grabbing hold of Benedict. ‘I know where we are,’ said Tyaas incredulously, ‘it’s the inside of the

family mausoleum!’

The crypt was built in the shape of a pentagon and each one of the stone ledges held a coffin. In the centre was a plinth that held three stone tombs positioned one on top of the other.

‘Why have you brought us here? To practice the black arts, I bet!’ said Tyaas sarcastically.
Esmerelda smirked at his childish fear of the dead. ‘Not today, Tyaas. It’s the only way out of the grounds without being seen. If I’d told you where we were headed you’d have complained all the way.’
‘It’s creepy and cold,’ said Tallitha, as she began to read the coffin inscriptions.
‘Take a look around,’ said Esmerelda. ‘Happily there are four of us today so that will keep the spirits settled. These are our long dead Morrow ancestors. Some of these tombs are over three hundred years old,’ she said, stroking an inscription with her fingertips.
‘What do you mean, “keep the spirits settled”?’ asked Tallitha nervously.
The sharp chilliness of the crypt began to seep through her outer garments down to her skin. She shivered uncontrollably.
‘It’s an old superstition from hereabouts. They say that an odd number of people at a burial or visiting the dead is considered ill-timed and unlucky, as it may awaken the spirits,’ explained Esmerelda.
‘That’s superstitious nonsense,’ said Tyaas looking apprehensively over his shoulder.
‘Maybe,’ said Esmerelda with a wry smile, ‘but how do you know that for sure?’
Tyaas shifted from foot to foot. Damned Esmerelda, she made him feel so uncomfortable.
Benedict was transfixed by the house of death. So this is what it looked like inside. He had seen the isolated mausoleum from the distance of the Spires. It was as ghoulish inside as he had imagined but also strangely fascinating. He began searching the nooks and crannies behind the coffins. Hidden at the back he discovered the funeral posies of the long dead. He picked up one of the wreaths and, as he did so, it disintegrated into a hundred brittle pieces in his hands. He jumped back, startled.
‘Benedict! Stop acting weirdly,’ exclaimed Tallitha.
But Benedict carried on snooping.
‘Look at these inscriptions,’ said Tallitha, absorbed by the names of the dear departed, ‘I wonder who they were and how they died?’
The brass plaques had the names of the inhabitants of each coffin. Tallitha rubbed them clean with the sleeve of her jacket.

‘Here lies Septimia Morrow and Siskin Morrow, her husband, laid here They died together, forever in our thoughts.’

 

‘Errrh, died together, what does that mean?’ she whispered to the others. ‘Listen to this one:’

 

‘Peace Be With You, Arabella Dorothea, who left us in her sixth year Dearest daughter of Bathia and Arthur Edwyn Morrow.’

‘Come on let’s get out of here. This place gives me the creeps,’ said Tyaas, ‘You don’t think they can hear us, do you?’ he said, gripping his lantern in the ghoulish tomb.

‘The dead commune with us all the time,’ said Esmerelda darkly and too mysteriously for Tyaas’s liking.

That shut him up. Tyaas looked at her wide eyed. ‘W-w-what do you mean?’ he asked warily.
‘We can’t always see the ghosts in a physical sense, but they’re around us everywhere, watching us,’ she said with a sinister air.
She looked steadily into the darkest corner of the crypt and seemed to smile at something. Tyaas shivered and gave his sister a desperate look.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he cried. ‘I’ve had enough of the dead.’
‘Help me open the door then. As I remember, it’s heavy,’ said Esmerelda, pulling at the brass handle.
‘How do you know it isn’t locked?’ asked Tallitha, heaving on the door.
‘Then we would be in a pickle,’ said Tyaas trying to lighten the mood.
‘This mausoleum is the tomb of Septimia Morrow. She was a strange woman from the family stories I’ve heard. She was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter and so on. It’s said she had very special powers indeed. Also she had an abiding horror of being buried alive and stipulated certain conditions for her own internment.’
Tyaas’s mouth dropped open. What was she going to say next? His family was too eccentric and spooky for words.
‘Unfortunately, some people were buried alive in days gone by. We know that because sometimes, when the coffins were opened, you could see that the person had tried to scratch their way out. So Septimia’s coffin was never sealed and the crypt door was left unlocked so that if she woke, she could set herself free. She didn’t want to be buried for eternity in this cold place.’
‘Was she b-b-buried alive?’ stuttered Tyaas looking horrified.
‘No, but the possibility of escape was always there,’ said Esmerelda gazing fondly at her long-dead ancestors.
The uncanny atmosphere of the crypt had unsettled Tyaas and he was desperate to leave. He went over to the iron door and began pulling it open, but it was stuck fast.
‘I think it’s locked. I can’t budge it!’ he shouted, desperately.
‘Errrgh... errrgh... it’s stuck. Probably hasn’t been opened since the last time I was here,’ said Esmerelda.
‘Come on, Benedict, lend a hand,’ said Tallitha sharply.
But Benedict was engrossed with the mausoleum. He liked its dead-stillness.
‘Benedict, stop that and help us!’ shouted Tyaas.
Benedict’s head appeared over the top of the tombs as he fumbled in his bag.
‘This is no time to start making notes on long dead relatives,’ said Tallitha jokingly, watching him scribbling.
Benedict put his notepad away and went over to help his cousins. With his additional weight the door eventually began to scrape open.
‘Pull harder... errh, it’s moving. One final big heave should do it!’
The heavy door groaned open to reveal the howling night and the dark irregular shapes of the headstones against the moonlight. They clambered outside, pushing through layers of tangled creepers, snagging at their clothes.
‘Where are we?’ asked Tallitha, pulling leaves out of her hair.
Esmerelda looked towards the big house to get her bearings.
‘We’re some way from Winderling Spires. There’s a gap in the boundary wall by that clump of trees. Once we’re through, we’ll head towards Shivering Water, it should take us until morning and by then we’ll have a good head start.’
Tallitha and Tyaas stumbled through the dense undergrowth, tripping and falling over the gravestones in the dark.
‘Ouch, that hurt!’ cried Tyaas, rubbing his shin.
‘Shine the lantern over here,’ demanded Tallitha, who was caught in a bramble patch.
The graveyard was a muddle of broken headstones and burial plots which had sunk further into the ground, upending their grizzly contents back on to the earth from whence they came. It made Tyaas shudder as he fell to the ground and touched the side of a coffin.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he yelled.
‘We need to make for higher ground, over there by the cemetery wall,’ shouted Esmerelda but her shrill words were whipped away by the blustery squall.
She pointed towards the fallen headstones and they scrambled to the top and congregated around the lantern. The wind moaned through the trees as they looked back towards the light coming from the Spires. Overhead the moonlight struck the twisted branches and threw cruel shadows on the ground.
‘Come on, let’s go!’ said Benedict unnerved by the deathly scene.
The wind shook the trees and made their ears sting with the cold. Owls hooted and the strange night noises feasted on the nervous travellers. Esmerelda took Benedict’s hand and made off in the direction of the wall. Never before had they been so far out in the grounds after dark. Then a fox started calling to its mate in the distance. The distinct high pitched piercing barks made Benedict freeze.
‘What’s that awful noise?’ he squealed.
‘It’s only a fox, not a wolfhound,’ explained Esmerelda. ‘Come on, it won’t hurt you,’ she said, dragging Benedict through the darkness, willing him to pick up pace.
‘You mean there are wolves out here?’ wailed Tallitha, looking wildly around her.
‘There are wild dogs in the forests to the north, but not here. Come on we’re nearly at the opening.’
Once through the gap, the ground became even underfoot and they found themselves on an old sheep-herders’ pathway.
‘This is the way to Shivering Water, now let’s press on quickly.’
They had a few precious hours before the house awoke, their absence was discovered and Agatha sent out a search party. On and on they tramped across fields and streams, over the dense scrubland of Burnt Heath. The rugged terrain and the heavy skies created a terrifying nightscape all around them where the burgeoning shadows began to look like brooding monsters. The sight of the windswept heath unnerved Esmerelda and she looked surreptitiously over her shoulder towards the cemetery. Earlier, she thought she had heard someone behind them but she didn’t want to alarm the others. Besides, Tallitha and the boys had been making too much noise for her to be certain.