Frost Hollow Hall (15 page)

‘You mustn’t . . . I can’t lose this job . . . please . . . let me explain,’ Gracie cried.

‘No, let me explain.’ Mrs Jessop licked the end of her finger and started flicking through the pages of her book. ‘Yes, here we are . . .’ She paused. For a split second her face paled but she quickly recovered. ‘Sunday the sixth of February, two china plates missing . . . Monday the seventh of February, three cups cracked . . . Tuesday the eighth of February . . .’

I didn’t hear the rest. My mind was racing ahead of itself.

Sunday February 6th.
Kit’s death, my almost drowning, and now the china. Three things. Three flipping things! All on the same date!

These things hadn’t happened by chance. They all linked back to the day Kit had died, connected to each other in some queer way. I was on to something at last! It was a job not to whoop or punch the air, when everyone else still looked so grave.

But.

That wasn’t quite everything, was it? Thrilled though I was, something still didn’t fit. In the lake Kit had been heart-stoppingly lovely. Here in the house, his spirit was different, smashing cups and causing mischief for the sake of it.

For the sake of what?

It was like there were two sides to him, the dreamy gentle side and the spiteful, angry one. Maybe that was it. Perhaps he had good reason to show his temper, if something truly bad had happened here. Something like the truth he said had to be revealed.

A strange thought came to me then, that maybe there was more to this. Could Frost Hollow Hall have other secrets, other
ghosts
? It hardly made sense, and I pushed it at once from my mind.

The room had fallen quiet. Mrs Jessop clearly thought we were a bunch of oafs who weren’t to be trusted. She hadn’t listened to Gracie or Cook; I didn’t suppose for a minute she’d listen to me.

Yet before I could stop myself, I said, ‘What Cook and Gracie say is true. No one’s been dropping china.’

‘Oh?’ said Mrs Jessop, turning to me. ‘And who asked you?’

‘I saw what happened just now.’

‘Then perhaps you might tell me.’

Cook put a hand on my arm. ‘You don’t need to do that, Tilly.’

‘Well, it in’t right to blame Gracie, nor anyone else. I’m not afraid of the truth,’ I said, though my palms were sweating.

‘If you want to keep your position, just be careful what you say,’ warned Cook.

Mrs Jessop raised her voice. ‘If someone doesn’t tell me THIS SECOND what is going on . . .’

‘There’s a spirit down here!’ I said, in a rush. ‘We think it’s angry at something.’

Mrs Jessop went white. She pressed her fingertips to her forehead and sighed deeply. Then she looked straight at me.

‘This is worse than I anticipated.’

‘You can’t sack her!’ cried Cook. ‘That in’t fair!’

‘It’ll be Lady Barrington’s decision.’

Cook looked horrified. ‘
Her Ladyship?
But it’s you and Mr Phelps what decides on the household staff. You mustn’t tell
her
!’

‘It’s high time Lady Barrington was told. We have huge problems keeping hold of our staff. And is it any wonder when you’re all scaring the living daylights out of each other?’

‘But what good would it do, really, with her nerves such as they are? Have a heart, Mrs J.’

Mrs Jessop shook her head. ‘This nonsense has got to stop. We cannot run a house like this.’

With the greatest care, she smoothed her hair and tucked her notebook under her arm. Then she came at me. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Cook try to stop her. Mrs Jessop grabbed my wrist. A hard yank and I was out into the passageway. She dragged me towards the green felt door.

‘Wait!’ I cried, digging my feet into the floor. ‘Please! Wait!’

One look at Mrs Jessop’s face and I knew there was no chance of that.

23

Lady Barrington’s Plan

We came out into the main hallway. Mrs Jessop kept a firm grip on me, rushing me along so my feet barely touched the floor.

‘Please! Just listen, will you?’ I cried.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. I twisted and turned ’til my arm burned, but her grip held fast as a vice. Before I knew it, I was raging.

‘Let go! Get your stinking hands off me!’

She didn’t so much as flinch, but marched me up a different set of steps towards the back of the house. It was gloomy here, all narrow passages and uneven floors. What gas lamps there were gave off a strange, greenish light. As we stopped in front of a door, Mrs Jessop tapped on it with her free hand.

‘Come in,’ said Lady Barrington’s voice from inside. Mrs Jessop told me to wait where I was. The door clicked shut behind her.

I leaned against the wall, head spinning, heart still beating way too fast. Here I was now in deep, deep trouble, just for speaking the truth. That was the problem with this place, nobody wanted to listen.

I stared hard at the door. Bet Mrs Jessop was in there, painting a right picture of me.

So.

I could wait here and be told to pack my bags. Or I could just go. Right now. I’d be back home by midnight.

I set off down the passage. Halfway along it, I stopped. What good would it do to run off like some snivelling baby? It wouldn’t help anyone, not Ma, not Kit, not even me. I thought of my dream last night, and the smile on Kit’s face. That’s what I had to think of, not the pinching fingers or the broken plates.

Kit’s spirit couldn’t rest. If he was ever to be at peace, then I had to find the truth. And I had to make people listen. The answer lay in this house, I knew it. That’s why I was here.

Behind me, I heard a door open.

Mrs Jessop called out, ‘I told you to wait right here!’ I turned to see her beckoning me. ‘Now come quickly, her Ladyship hasn’t got all night.’

We stepped into a bright parlour. There were lamps everywhere, and mirrors reflecting back each little ball of light so the room was almost dazzling. Lady Barrington was sitting on a sofa near to the hearth. She was dressed for dinner in a black frock, this time with the brooch pinned to her chest.

Next to her heart.

She seemed recovered enough from this morning, though she still had that faraway look in her eyes. I felt my own heart thudding. I hoped to God this wouldn’t take long.

To the right of me, Lord Barrington got up from his chair. He looked so much like Kit it was a job to keep my eyes down. He hardly noticed me of course, speaking over my head to Mrs Jessop.

‘Let Samuel know he’ll need to pack for me, would you? I’ll be catching the morning train.’

‘Oh darling, must you go away
again
?’ Lady Barrington reached out to him and he took her hand. They made such a handsome couple, what with her so dark and him so fair. I knew I was staring now, but I couldn’t help myself.

‘I’m needed in London. Why don’t you hold a little gathering, perhaps? It would do you good. Keep you entertained.’

‘Oh no.’ She looked up at him from under her lashes. ‘I don’t feel up to that.’

‘Well, Mrs Jessop is waiting to talk to you. I’ll be in the library.’

Once he’d gone, Mrs Jessop nudged me forwards. I caught sight of myself in a mirror and saw what a state I looked. My apron was still wet, and my hair was escaping from under my cap. Too late to fix it now.

‘Please be brief,’ said Lady Barrington.

Mrs Jessop squared her shoulders. ‘Matters have come to a head, your Ladyship. Our finest china has been broken on more than one occasion this week. I’ve got it all written down.’

And she opened that notebook of hers like some fancy detective who was about to solve a crime.

‘Couldn’t Mr Phelps deal with this?’ said Lady Barrington, stifling a yawn.

‘But the staff are full of such silly talk, your Ladyship. They’re blaming . . .’ Mrs Jessop hesitated. ‘Well, I think it would be best if you heard about it.’

‘Oh? And why is Matilda here? Is she the culprit?’

I couldn’t stop myself. ‘No, your Ladyship, it in’t me!’

‘Quiet, child! No one asked you to speak!’ said Mrs Jessop.

‘Well it in’t silly talk!’ I knew it sounded pert, but it wasn’t right, all this looking for someone to blame.

‘Do you know who
is
responsible, then?’ said Lady Barrington.

‘Not exactly.’

‘Are you covering for someone?’

‘I think she is, your Ladyship,’ Mrs Jessop chipped in. ‘She’s full of foolish ideas.’

I counted to five in my head, then said, calm as I could, ‘I in’t covering for no one, your Ladyship. On my pa’s life, I in’t!’

Lady Barrington gave me a long look. I’d told her too much about my family this morning; she seemed to recall it now. ‘I think you’d better leave in the morning, Matilda. That’s if Mrs Jessop can manage without you.’

I felt sick. Now it had come to it, I was desperate to stay. Mrs Jessop breathed in sharply, and I saw her hand go to her throat as if her collar was too tight. We both started speaking at once.

‘No, please, don’t make me go . . .’

‘Really, your Ladyship, a firm warning is all she needs . . .’

‘Stop! Both of you!’ Lady Barrington cried. ‘You’re giving me a headache!’

I looked at Mrs Jessop. Her expression was blank as stone again.

‘Just tell me the truth,’ said Lady Barrington, more gently this time. ‘And then I’ll decide. If someone is deliberately breaking my china, I have a right to an explanation at the very least.’

Though my mouth was dry as sand, I reckoned she
should
hear the truth. It was up to her if she refused to believe what I said.

‘We think it’s a spirit, some sort of ghost.’

Mrs Jessop spluttered. Lady Barrington though, looked completely stunned. She turned paler than ever and gripped the sides of her seat. I feared she was having another of her turns. Then, like the sun coming out from the clouds, her whole face lit up. For a long while she didn’t speak.

‘You must tell me more,’ she said, eventually.

I swallowed hard. ‘It comes at night and smashes cups and plates, and it gets us maids into trouble. And it follows us up the back stairs in the dark.’

Lady Barrington sat forward in her seat. Her eyes looked huge. ‘And this spirit, as you call it, does it take a form? Does it ever appear as a person?’

‘Your Ladyship, please . . .’ interrupted Mrs Jessop. ‘This is exactly my point.’

‘But don’t you realise? It could be him! At last!’

‘No, no, not this . . .’ said Mrs Jessop, shaking her head.

By now Lady Barrington was on her feet. ‘ It
is
him! It has to be him!’

I felt uneasy too. Did we
really
know the spirit was Kit? I was beginning to have my doubts. But Lady Barrington seemed almost beside herself, and I didn’t fancy being the one to dash her hopes.

‘Ten years I’ve waited for a sign from him!’ said Lady Barrington. ‘Ten whole years!’

I stared at her.

Ten years? Did she really say ten years?

Shocked and bewildered as I was, I fought to keep it from my face. Yet my head started spinning.

So Kit hadn’t haunted his mother in all this time? And yet he’d saved my life
and
appeared in my dreams, all in the last flipping week. Ten years her Ladyship had been waiting. And for nothing. Yet there was a ghost here all right, here in this very house.

Lost to my thoughts, I hadn’t reckoned on Mrs Jessop. I realised now she was watching me closely.

Me
.

A nobody from the village, who dreamed of Kit Barrington while his own dear mother kept a fire burning in the mad hope that it might bring him back from the dead.

My mind reeled. Why me?
Why not
Lady Barrington?

Either way, I couldn’t take my eyes off her Ladyship. She had a hand to her mouth. Her gaze darted this way and that, as if she was thinking like fury. Then she said, ‘We shall have a séance. We
must
summon him!’

I gasped.

‘If I might say so, your Ladyship, that is not a good idea,’ said Mrs Jessop, grimly.

‘Of course it is!’ cried Lady Barrington. ‘It’s the very
best
idea!’

The thought of a séance turned my stomach too. But I couldn’t ignore the thrill running through me. In fact, I could barely keep still.

‘It’ll do nothing to settle things below stairs,’ Mrs Jessop was saying. ‘Those girls are coiled springs. What they need is a stop put to all this.’

Lady Barrington didn’t seem to be listening. She was almost feverish with excitement.

Mrs Jessop tried again. ‘And do you think his Lordship would approve?’

‘My husband advised me to hold a gathering in his absence,’ said Lady Barrington, her eyes glittering. ‘Besides, I’ll thank you to know your place.’

Mrs Jessop blinked slowly; once, twice. She looked defeated. ‘Very good, your Ladyship.’

‘That’s settled then,’ said Lady Barrington. ‘We’ll need a cold supper and some wine to steady our nerves. This will be our little party. No footmen. Let’s do it tomorrow evening.’

It took a moment or two to sink in. Then it came back to me why I was here, the small matter of my job. I smoothed my pinny and waited, praying her Ladyship wouldn’t turn me out now. I’d
die
if I got sent home before tomorrow.

Only she seemed to have forgotten all about me and sat staring into the fire.

‘Will that be all, your Ladyship?’ said Mrs Jessop.

Her Ladyship started. ‘Oh . . . for now, yes.’

‘But what about me?’ I blurted out. ‘What’s to become of me?’

Mrs Jessop stiffened.

‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Lady Barrington and passed a hand over her eyes.

My legs were shaking again. She couldn’t send me home, not now!

‘Very well, we’ll keep you. Mrs Jessop will need you to serve tomorrow night. This is your last chance to prove yourself.’

‘Thank you, oh thank you!’ I cried.

But she’d already turned away and was gazing into the flames.

*

When I got back to the kitchens, Cook looked surprised to see me. Gracie leapt up from her stool and flung her arms around my neck.