Frost Hollow Hall (19 page)

‘What is the meaning of this? Do you wish to torture me?’

‘No,’ said Madame Martineau, uneasily. ‘It’s what the spirit told me to write.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Why yes. You saw yourself. The spirit isn’t happy and it wanted to tell you. And I think it wanted Tilly to know too.’

Lady Barrington stared at me. ‘
You?
What on earth . . .’

‘Please,’ I said, ‘let me see the writing.’

Her Ladyship gave a wild laugh. But Madame Martineau passed me the notepad and pointed to the word. Though her writing was faint and shaky, the letters were clear. The name wasn’t Kit.

It was Ada.

29

An Unpleasant Task

Madame Martineau watched me like a cat at a mousehole. I felt the flush spread across my cheeks.

‘Well, dearie, does it mean anything to you?’

Yes, you daft woman
, I thought to myself,
it means everything!

For of course this bad spirit wasn’t Kit Barrington! How could I ever have thought it? He’d saved my life. He wanted my help. He’d never do harm to me.

Though the relief didn’t last. With a sinking feeling, I remembered last night’s dream and how the ice had seemed so close to breaking. Yet Kit still couldn’t be free of it. He couldn’t rest in peace. This wasn’t finished; the truth still had to be revealed.

‘I don’t know no one called Ada,’ I said, which was a sort of lie since I’d encountered her spirit more times than I’d cared to. And on my upper arm, I still bore the bruises to prove it. I reckoned Madame Martineau guessed this; for a moment more her gaze lingered on me.

Then Lady Barrington said sharply, ‘Don’t pretend you haven’t heard the stories. I know what goes on below stairs – all that gossip late into the night.’

‘No, your Ladyship, I swear. I in’t never heard this name before.’

‘. . . Young girls like you, with your heads full of nonsense.’

‘Your Ladyship, please,’ said Madame Martineau. ‘Tilly has a way with the spirits. Ada didn’t want to communicate much with me. It was you two she was drawn to. It might be worth listening to Tilly.’

But I’d nothing to say. I trembled still. All I wanted was a moment to myself to let everything sink in.

I got to my feet. ‘May I be excused, please?’

Lady Barrington fixed me with a glittering stare. ‘It’s you, isn’t it?
You
did this.’

‘Pardon, m’lady?’

Then she turned to the medium, who was nervously rearranging her hat. ‘You’re to blame too. You sent Mrs Jessop away, and put this trollop in her place. No wonder it didn’t work.’

‘But your Ladyship, I can’t call spirits that don’t want to come,’ she said.

‘He’s my only son! Of course he’d want to come!’

I felt truly awful.

Because Kit hadn’t come, had he? Just like he’d not come to her for the last ten years.

‘But Ada came, at least,’ said Madame Martineau.

‘Blast Ada! Blast the lot of you!’

The room fell silent.

Madame Martineau went red in the face. ‘Well! I don’t expect to be spoken to like this, lady or no lady!’ she said, and started to gather her things.

A bit of foul talk didn’t bother me. It was the name Ada that I couldn’t shake off. And like a lamp being lit inside my head, I realised I
did
know it from somewhere. It was a name I’d seen – here, at the Hall. No surname, just ‘Ada’. Even thinking on it made me go cold.

I knew exactly where I’d seen it. That day I’d come to see Kit’s grave, it was Ada’s I’d found first. I could picture it now, clear as if I was stood before it – that little rusted headstone poking up through the snow, the words ‘
TAKEN TOO SOON
’ carved into it.

I felt a lump in my throat. Just last night her spirit had led me here to this room.

This very room. Kit’s room . . .

My thoughts took a strange turn.

‘Might I say something?’ I said, heart thumping.

Her Ladyship didn’t look up. She’d picked up the package again, but seemed to have no intention of opening it, holding it from her at arm’s length like it was about to explode.

Madame Martineau urged me on. ‘Go ahead, dearie.’

I took a deep breath. ‘Did Ada ever know Kit?’

Her Ladyship’s face went red, then white. She laid a hand on her chest and swayed like she might faint. As I went to help her, she flinched. ‘Stay away from me!’

‘But she might be trying to tell us something . . .’

‘I’m warning you! Stay back!’

I stopped. ‘I’m sorry, your Ladyship. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

‘It’s too late for that,’ she cried. ‘Now get back downstairs and out of my sight!’

‘I’ll send up Dorcas,’ I said, and rushed for the door. Madame Martineau was right behind me.

*

Once I’d shown Madame Martineau out, I took a moment to get myself straight. The passage below stairs was quiet and dark and I was glad of it, since my head was fit to burst with all that had happened, and I hardly knew what to think. One thought shouted loud above the others.

Kit and Ada.

There was a link between them. I was certain of it. Her Ladyship had got in a lather at just the mention of their names. And what the heck had been inside that package? It seemed to be connected to Kit’s sketchbook, and the writing on the last page. One look at all those fancy ‘to my dearest’s and Lady Barrington had gone straight over to the drawer.

My mind spun off in all directions then, searching out the things I still didn’t grasp. But my thoughts came back all jumbled up and silly. I was too flipping tired to even think right. I reckoned it was time for bed.

I headed back to the kitchens, hoping to make myself a quick cup of tea. Dorcas was talking with Mr Phelps in the doorway. They looked up when they saw me. She mouthed the word ‘Sorry,’ then slipped away. Mr Phelps stepped forward, blocking my path.

‘Ah, Matilda,’ he said, sternly. ‘Since we cannot locate Mrs Jessop, this unpleasant task falls to me. Step into my pantry please.’

‘Am I in trouble?’

The tilt of his head seemed to say so. My heart sank like a stone. Tonight had been my last chance to prove myself as a housemaid. In that sense, things hadn’t gone well. I followed him into his room. He shut the door behind us. He stayed standing and didn’t pull up a chair for me.

‘Yes, I’m afraid you are in trouble,’ Mr Phelps said, looking at a place somewhere near my chin. ‘There has been some sort of . . . commotion . . . upstairs this evening.’

I felt myself go red. ‘Please, sir, if I could just . . .’

‘It is not our place to comment on such proceedings,’ he said, cutting me short. ‘However, Matilda, it seems that since your arrival in this house there has been much talk of spirits and the like.’

‘I didn’t start it! They was all full of it when I got here!’

‘Which’, he continued, ‘is unsettling to the other staff, and deeply unsettling to Lord and Lady Barrington.’

‘But that in’t my fault!’ I said. ‘I in’t the one keeping a fire lit all day and night!’

‘Hold your tongue, young lady!’

I bit my lip. What else I had to say would keep.

‘Her Ladyship insists that you leave . . .’

Of course it had been coming. Still, it felt like a punch to the guts. And I didn’t want to cry in front of him, so I fixed my eyes on the floor.

‘. . . tonight.’

My temper flared. ‘Now hang on a minute! That in’t fair! I was trying to help her Ladyship, really I was.’

‘I hardly see how.’

‘But it was her idea. She wanted to contact Kit. And I weren’t even meant to be part of it!’

Mr Phelps held up his hand. ‘Enough!’

I started to panic. ‘But sir, please, I’ll do anything! Wash dishes, iron clothes.
Anything!
’

In my mind, I saw our landlord’s leering face, and Ma all frail and low. Without me earning a fair wage, we’d be out in the streets within days. And then there was Kit; I couldn’t leave now, not when Ada’s spirit had been trying to tell us something. Just a bit longer here at Frost Hollow Hall, and I reckoned I’d uncover the truth.

But Mr Phelps was already signalling that I should take off my cap and pinny. ‘Go upstairs and collect your things. You can return the rest of your uniform to Dorcas.’

‘So you really are chucking me out? At night?’

He nodded gravely. ‘Her Ladyship wishes it so. There’s nothing more to say on the matter. We’ll see you have a light to guide you home.’

30

Snow-blind

Mr Phelps didn’t mention the snow. By the time I’d changed back into my own clothes, it was coming down thick and fast outside, though I was too wretched to care. At the back door, Cook took her old greatcoat down off its peg and wrapped me in it.

‘It in’t right,’ she kept saying. ‘They should at least let you wait ’til morning.’

What did it matter? What did any of it matter now?

‘I knew this séance would be trouble,’ said Dorcas, and turned to Gracie. ‘Come on, say your goodbyes.’

Gracie hung back, upset.

‘You’ll be all right, you’ll see,’ I said to her, mustering what cheer I could. Yet my voice sounded flat and hollow and when I hugged her, she cried all the more.

Eventually, Dorcas pulled us apart. ‘Sleep in with me tonight, Gracie. Mrs Jessop’s gone off goodness knows where, so no one will mind.’

Out in the yard, there was already an inch or two of fresh snow.

‘Go straight home,’ said Dorcas. ‘And keep to the driveway, else you’ll get lost.’

I hardly cared where I was headed. What was there to go back to? I felt lost enough already.

‘Well, take care.’ Dorcas started to close the door.

I stuck my foot out to stop her. ‘Before I go, tell me, what d’you know about Ada?’

‘
Ada?
Why you asking that?’ she said, startled.

‘Just tell me. Quick!’

Dorcas glanced nervously over her shoulder and dropped her voice. ‘She was Mrs Jessop’s girl.’

‘Her
daughter
?’

‘No one talks of it now,’ she said. ‘We haven’t done for years. Mr Phelps says we’re not to since it caused so much upset at the time. You see, Ada got sick and . . .’

Mr Phelps called from inside, ‘Shut that door and bolt it.’

‘What on earth went on upstairs tonight, Tilly?’ Dorcas hissed.

I went to speak but Mr Phelps’s voice cut in. ‘Hurry up! And make sure Matilda has a lamp.’

‘He can stuff his lamp!’ I said, hitching up my skirts. ‘Thanks, Dorcas. So long.’

I set off out the courtyard. My head was reeling.

Mrs Jessop had a daughter?

Something Cook had said came back to me, that I looked like someone dear to Mrs Jessop, someone who’d died.

Ada
.

The very idea made me shudder. I walked faster ’til my head began to clear. Never mind what Cook said; maybe she needed spectacles, or wasn’t thinking straight, or just happened to be sharing a bit of gossip. I couldn’t worry about that.

What mattered was Kit and Ada. There were two spirits here at Frost Hollow Hall, and they’d both contacted me.

Two dead children and two grieving mothers.

This
was the link between Kit and Ada, or part of it, at least.

As ghosts they were worlds apart. Ada seemed to haunt the back stairs and kitchens mostly, whereas Kit had appeared to me in the lake. And then there were my dreams of holding Kit’s cold hands, and his dear face pleading for help. Not Ada. There was nothing dreamy or gentle about her. She was angry and spiteful. As if she was out for revenge.

Whatever connected the pair of them, this Ada person had me gripped. There was so much I didn’t know about her:
how did she die? What did she look like? What did she mean to Kit?
Heck, I hardly knew where to start.

And it seemed Ada was fixed on me too. Every night I’d been at the Hall, she’d done something to get my attention. And now she most definitely had it.

Yet it did nothing to improve my mood. If anything, I felt more crushed than ever. Here I was, leaving the Hall so full of questions and with only half the cursed answers.

And it wasn’t even my fault!

I set off across the park at a right pace, kicking at the snow and cussing ’til my throat felt raw. What did I care? No one would hear me now.

I went on kicking and cussing for quite a while. But eventually my temper cooled and I saw that I’d covered a fair bit of ground. Snow clung to my skirts, and my legs ached like mad. Behind me, I could just make out the faint lights of the Hall. Up ahead was all dark. There were no paths to follow; I was miles from the driveway. Each way I turned looked exactly the same.

The sweat under my clothes cooled quickly. I started to shiver. It was snowing faster now, in hard little grains that stung my cheeks and caught in my hair. The wind had got up too.

Which way?

I set off with the wind in my back. As I walked, the snow began to play tricks on me. It seemed the ground glowed with light and the darkness was not quite black. I felt dizzy just from looking at it.

Eventually, I stopped to get my bearings. Footprints – my footprints – lay before me, going this way and that like ants. My spirits sank in a trice.
Oh no! Oh heck, no!
I’d been walking in a circle, hadn’t I? I’d passed this way before.

Cursing didn’t help. Up ahead, I could just make out a dark sort of shape. It might have been a house, or a hedge or a gate onto the road. There was nothing to do but to aim for it. Bunching up my skirts, I set off. In places, the snow had drifted knee deep; it was like wading through mud, and it tired me quickly now, so I had to keep stopping to rest. The dark shape I’d been aiming for seemed to have vanished. I’d got colder too and felt very low. And once the bad thoughts started, they wouldn’t stop.

You’ve let Kit down. You’ve let Ma down. You can’t do nothing right. No wonder Pa took off without you.

Round and round they went in my head. I kept going, one boot in front of the other.