Chapter 5
The kitchen at Harling Hall was surprisingly modern, with every mod con. It wouldn’t look out of place at Whitethorn Court, our own home.
Even so, I felt awkward and embarrassed as Mia motioned to me to sit down while she made us both coffee – after ascertaining that I didn’t only drink Mariska’s special tea.
‘It’s only fruit tea from Maister’s,’ I told her, then felt immediately disloyal as I wondered why I’d revealed how ordinary my sister’s choice of brew actually was.
Mia laughed and I relaxed a little – despite the distraction of a watchful ghost in the corner.
Mia was, I thought, incredibly attractive: probably a little older than me, with long dark hair and grey eyes that were fringed with thick, black eyelashes.
She was well-spoken and oozed confidence and class.
‘I’m sorry you got landed with looking after me,’ I said impulsively, as she put the mug of coffee on the table in front of me. ‘I’m sure you’re very busy, so please don’t let me hold you up or anything.’
Mia sat beside me and raised an eyebrow in surprise. ‘Is that how you see it?’ she asked. ‘That I’ve been landed with you?’
‘Well, haven’t you?’
Honestly, I could throttle Melissa sometimes. She really was a piece of work. There’d been no need to act so rudely towards me. What harm would it have done if I’d just sat in the living room with her while she talked business?
I guessed she was hoping I’d find something out if I was able to talk to Mia, and that perhaps I’d be able to spot more ghosts if I wasn’t stuck in the living room with her.
Maybe she wanted me to make an excuse, ask to use the bathroom and go exploring Harling Hall.
Well, I wasn’t going to, although I had to admit I was a bit amused that the two adult ghosts had followed her into the living room.
Melissa would never pick up on their presence, whereas I could have observed them for her.
Mia considered me for a moment. ‘How long have you worked for Madam Mariska then?’ she asked at last.
‘Er, I guess ever since I left school,’ I admitted.
She looked shocked and I thought I’d better explain.
‘Mel – I mean, Mariska, is my half-sister,’ I told her. ‘She brought me up after our mum died when I was fourteen. Neither of us has a living father, you see, and there was no one else. My dad was American and I didn’t know his family at all.’
I didn’t add that they’d disowned him when he was twenty and had started down the path that led – yes – to fame, but also to a certain notoriety that they found humiliating.
‘I suppose, when I left school, it seemed obvious that I’d stick with her. She needed an admin assistant and a cook and housekeeper, and I was already living with her when I wasn’t away at school, so…’ I fidgeted nervously. ‘I expect you think that’s a pretty rubbish career choice.’
Not that it had really been a choice at all. I’d just fallen into it somehow.
Mia raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, if it is, I made a similar one. I came here as an admin assistant, too, and somehow became the cook and housekeeper as well. It seems we have a similar job description.’
‘At least you have a proper employer,’ I said. ‘I’m just there because Mel – Mariska – is family really.’
‘Oh,’ Mia said vaguely, ‘there’s a distant family connection here for me, too.
’ Her gaze slid over to the corner of the kitchen where the distraction – a scruffy-looking little girl with plaits, wearing a cotton print dress, a cardigan, and a pair of wellies that looked a little too big for her – still lurked.
A coincidence, surely? ‘We’re not so different, you and I. ’
I thought I couldn’t imagine anyone more different from me than Mia. She was so elegant and graceful, and seemed so self-assured. In fact, she was quite beautiful. I could barely take my eyes off her and hitched up my glasses as if to get a clearer view.
‘I must say,’ she said now, ‘I’d be rather annoyed if I had a sister who spoke to me the way Mariska just spoke to you. It’s a bit rich, packing you off to the kitchen while she conducts business, isn’t it? Is she always like that?’
I wanted to say no, of course she wasn’t, but the truth was that, in recent years, my sister had grown more high-handed and arrogant towards me.
I tried to remember the days when we’d laughed together, and she’d shown me kindness and consideration, but the memories were faint.
I wasn’t at all sure they were even genuine. Maybe it was all wishful thinking.
‘She has a lot on her mind,’ I said, unable to shake off the family loyalty that kept me tied to Melissa’s side, despite it all. ‘What with all this business about It’s Haunted!’
‘Oh yes, it’s been cancelled, hasn’t it? I read about it in the papers. Apparently, ghosts are out of fashion.’ Mia smiled and took a sip of her coffee.
‘So the head of HoneyStone Television seems to think. He says no one’s interested in ghosts any longer, but I wonder…’
The child in the corner shifted and there was a snort of derision. Mia coughed and, at that moment, Callie’s little girl entered the kitchen carrying a cute tuxedo cat.
‘Oh,’ I said in delight, ‘isn’t he sweet?’
The girl, who I thought had earlier said her name was Immi, beamed at me. ‘Yes, isn’t he? His name’s Brian. Would you like to hold him?’
There was a tut of disapproval from the corner of the kitchen, and I held out my arms before Immi could change her mind. The cat snuggled up to me immediately, clearly sensing that I was genuinely fond of his kind.
‘He likes you,’ Mia said approvingly.
The distraction growled. ‘Don’t know why.’
‘He was my birthday present last year,’ Immi explained. ‘Do you have a cat?’
‘No,’ I said, rubbing the fur between Brian’s ears and smiling as he purred with pleasure. ‘I do have a dog though. Well, strictly speaking she’s not mine, she’s Mariska’s, but I look after her.’
‘What sort of dog is she?’ Immi asked, interested.
‘A golden retriever,’ I said proudly. ‘Her name’s Honey. The television company named her – they gave her to Mariska, you see.’
‘I love golden retrievers,’ Mia told me. ‘My gran used to have one when I was a child. He was such a kindly, handsome chap. I adored him.’
The distraction came closer and I distinctly heard, ‘Our Janet? I never knew that!’ in a childish, East End of London accent.
Mia jumped up. ‘Would you like a biscuit, Verity? I never thought to offer you one.’
‘Oh no, it’s okay,’ I said. ‘Thank you, though. I don’t expect Mariska will be much longer.’
‘Did she tell you why she’s here?’ Immi asked, sitting down opposite me and propping her chin in her hand as she surveyed me with curiosity. ‘She said she wants to do a séance at Halloween.’
‘Well, that’s between her and your mum and dad,’ I said awkwardly.
‘Oh, Brodie’s not my dad,’ she told me. ‘He’s going to be, though. Next May. I’m going to be a bridesmaid.’
‘Me, too,’ the distraction said cheerfully.
I hoped I’d covered my surprise adequately. The ghost child was to be a bridesmaid? The question was, did the bride know about that or not?
Mia sat down again. ‘I expect your sister’s looking for some sort of work, now that the programme’s ended. Maybe she wants to be part of the Halloween event.’
I shrugged, not wanting to commit to anything. ‘I expect so,’ I said, ‘although I shouldn’t think she’ll be short of offers. She’s very good at what she does, and she has an excellent agent.’
There I went again! I couldn’t stop myself from defending Melissa, no matter how badly she behaved.
I thought about her agent, Diccon. He wouldn’t be happy that she’d done this without even consulting him, as I’d told her on several occasions already this morning, but she was a law unto herself and took advantage of his kindly nature.
‘Is she really that good?’ Mia asked. ‘Do you…’ She hesitated, then said, ‘Do you believe in all that stuff then? Ghosts?’
I picked up my mug and took a large gulp of coffee. Brian headbutted my arm, reminding me that he’d enjoyed being stroked.
‘Mariska does,’ I said, trying to sound brisk and down to earth. ‘That’s what really matters. She says she was born with a gift, and I have no reason to doubt her.’
That was true anyway. She had been born with a gift, and I’d never doubted that. No need to mention that the gift seemed to have deserted her.
I thought about the moment I’d walked into the hallway of this beautiful house.
I’d seen the three ghosts immediately and heard their mutterings.
Melissa, though, clearly hadn’t an inkling they were there.
As agreed, I’d sidled up to her and lightly tapped the inside of her wrist three times, indicating the number of spirits present.
It had been her passport into the sitting room and a chance to pitch to the owners of the estate.
‘Right…’ Mia said.
Immi eyed me with interest, and I heard a snort of derision from the child who was now standing right beside Mia, trying to catch my eye. I resolutely looked the other way.
‘I expect this house has its fair share of ghostly inhabitants,’ I said hesitantly, keeping my face turned to Immi.
‘I expect so,’ she said with a shrug. ‘It’s ever so old. I think there was another house here before this one, too, so there could be ghosts going back centuries.’
‘Some say the ghost of a Roman soldier has been seen around here,’ Mia said solemnly.
I forced myself to look at her and was relieved to see that the child had gone back to the corner of the kitchen and was sitting on the floor.
Brian leapt from my knee and ran over to join her.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him pawing the little girl and jumping up to grab her fingers as she teased him by waggling them in the air.
Mia and Immi didn’t seem to notice his odd behaviour.
I cleared my throat. ‘Wow, really? A Roman soldier in the village? How fascinating,’ I said feebly. ‘But this house must be hundreds of years old itself. I expect you must have heard or seen something here?’
Immi and Mia looked blank.