Chapter 6
SILAS
A meeting at Harling Hall took place the following night in the ballroom.
Callie had called it as an emergency, and Brodie had invited all the villagers by email, phone, or a letter through the door, excepting only those who were too infirm to leave their homes.
Callie promised they’d be contacted about the outcome of the meeting the following day.
Meanwhile, the Roman Centurion Quintus Severus had been put to good use, visiting every ghost and telling them in no uncertain terms that they were to be there, or else.
What he’d do if they didn’t turn up was anyone’s guess, but luckily it wasn’t put to the test, as every single one of them arrived at Harling Hall, bang on time.
Silas had considered refusing because there was nothing he hated more than being ordered about, and frankly he thought it disgraceful that Callie employed that Roman brute to enforce her wishes upon the ghost community, but finally he decided that he needed to know what was going on, and that his would probably be the only voice of reason so he owed it to himself to be there.
‘What’s the big emergency, Callie?’ Shona asked.
She ran Mrs Herron’s Teashop, taking over what had always been the family business, and was watched over by her Aunt Polly, who had been the manager of the cafe until she’d been killed.
Shona was accompanied by her fiancé, Max, who had moved to Shona’s home in the village in January, after they’d returned from visiting his family in Germany.
Silas wasn’t at all sure about Max Meyer.
He baked cakes and seemed to enjoy doing so.
Silas thought that highly suspicious, although he supposed there was no accounting for what Continental men got up to.
‘Bet it’s another of them daft events she’s got planned,’ Gordon Thwaite grumbled.
Silas scowled. He was heartily sick of that old man.
He and his friend, Ernie Baldwin, were always moaning about the events Callie organised in the village, even though they usually enjoyed every single one of them.
It was extremely tiresome to listen to his constant stream of complaints.
‘As if Halloween and the Christmas fair aren’t enough to deal with. We’ve only just got over another 1940s weekend. What is it now? A Bonfire Night extravaganza, no doubt,’ Ernie said irritably.
‘Don’t give her any ideas, for goodness’ sake!’ Gordon snapped.
‘Actually,’ Callie said, ‘this is about Halloween. There’s been a development.’
Silas listened intently as she told them all of Madam Mariska’s visit and her proposal to perform a séance at midnight. She also told them that there was a good possibility that the local television news would cover the event because of having the star of It’s Haunted! performing there.
‘I wanted to check with you all first before I agree to this,’ she said. ‘We’ve said yes in theory, but we won’t send out the contract until we know how you all feel about it.’
There was a murmuring of excitement from both the living and the non-living residents at the thought of a celebrity in the village. Silas was appalled.
‘As if the children’s Halloween events alone weren’t bad enough – corrupting their young minds!’ he exclaimed. ‘Now you want to heap even more disgrace on this village by inviting this ungodly woman to Rowan Vale?’
‘You mean we’d be on the telly?’ Millie asked eagerly, as if Silas hadn’t even spoken.
Having died at the tender age of seventeen in 1964, he supposed he should allow for her rudeness.
She came from an age when all reason and decency had flown out of the window – ironically much like Millie herself, who’d fallen to her death from her bathroom window.
However, Silas wasn’t inclined to be generous and scowled at the young girl in the indecently short dress and pantomime dame make-up in disapproval.
‘It’s possible that the event will be,’ Callie said, after repeating Millie’s question to the living in the crowd. ‘I don’t think you’re likely to show up on the screen, though, since you’re not actually alive. Sorry.’
Millie tutted. ‘Typical. There’s no blooming fun to be had in this place.’
‘If you did, though,’ Bill Fairfax – a young soldier from the Great War – said to her, rather sheepishly, ‘you’d be the star of the show.’
Millie looked at him in surprise. ‘Oh! Thanks very much.’
He smiled at her and Millie’s hand flew to her chest as she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Silas groaned inwardly. Not more shenanigans in the village!
It was bad enough with those two old fools up at the Hall, who should have more sense at their age.
Not to mention young Brooke and Danny who, after behaving perfectly reasonably for years, had somehow taken leave of their senses in recent months and were frequently to be found kissing and canoodling in the street as if they had no sense of propriety whatsoever.
‘Is this Madam Mariska genuine?’ Shona asked.
Callie, Brodie and Mia looked at each other. ‘It’s very hard to say,’ Callie admitted.
‘Nonsense!’ Agnes wasn’t having that, which pleased Silas.
He’d always had a sneaking regard for Mrs Ashcroft, or Mrs Wyndham as she was called now, despite her silly schoolgirl behaviour around Aubrey Wyndham.
At least she had some moral fibre, which was more than could be said for the rest of them.
‘She’s a complete charlatan. I know her sort.
A liar! A fraud! There’ll be some trickery behind it all, you mark my words. ’
‘She picked up on there being three spirits at Harling Hall,’ Callie continued. ‘But, as Agnes rightly points out, there could be a trick to that. Or a lucky guess. She didn’t seem particularly aware that Agnes and Aubrey were in the room with us when we moved into the sitting room.’
‘What about the girl that was with her?’ Wyndham asked. ‘What do we think to her?’
‘Verity?’ Callie explained to the livings what Aubrey had asked, and how Madam Mariska had arrived with a young assistant.
‘Actually,’ Mia said, ‘she’s not just her assistant. She’s her half-sister, and I think she’s bossed around quite a bit by Mariska.’
‘Oh, really?’ Callie said. ‘Then again, after the way she ordered her to go with you into the kitchen, I’m not surprised. Well anyway, the issue here is Madam Mariska and her offer to do a séance on Halloween night.’
‘Offer?’ Brodie said grimly. ‘She practically demanded.’
Lawrie, who’d been sitting quietly on the front row listening to them all, laughed suddenly. ‘Well, you can hardly blame her, my boy. She’s out of work now that It’s Haunted! has been cancelled. Rather a shame, I think. I always quite enjoyed it.’
‘You watched It’s Haunted!, Lawrie?’ Agnes asked, shocked.
‘I did. It was fun. She was quite convincing at times. I’d love to know how genuine she is.’
‘How can you say it was fun, Lawrence?’ Silas demanded, who always used Lawrie’s full name when he disapproved of something he said or did. ‘People like her should not be meddling in things that don’t concern them.’
‘So you think it’s a good idea, Grandpa?’ asked Brodie, frowning, while Silas gave a frustrated snort. It was so infuriating that the boy couldn’t hear or see ghosts. Yet again his concerns had been brushed aside.
‘I don’t really think it’s my decision,’ Lawrie said.
‘Nevertheless, we’d love to know your opinion.’ Callie smiled at him. ‘I’ve no doubt we’ll be hearing everyone else’s.’
‘Except mine,’ Silas said bitterly.
Lawrie nodded, understanding. ‘I heard you, Silas, don’t worry.
I’m sure Callie will take your objections on board.
As for my own opinion – I think it would be a fun little event that would bring extra revenue to the Harling Estate and provide some entertainment for Halloween night.
I can’t see any harm in it. I say we go ahead and send her the contract. ’
‘Well!’ Agnes was clearly overcome. Millie burst out laughing as Wyndham put a comforting arm around his wife’s shoulders and did his best to reassure her that all would be well, whatever the outcome.
‘Aubrey Wyndham, you always were a fool,’ Silas said contemptuously.
‘I think it would be fun, too,’ Immi said.
‘You won’t be there,’ Callie replied immediately. ‘At midnight you’ll be tucked up in bed, sound asleep.’
‘Oh, but Mum!’
‘No, I’m sorry, Immi. This is definitely not for the children. You’ve got enough going on for you during the afternoon anyway.’
‘I’m not a child,’ Immi grumbled.
Silas stared at her in amazement. She was twelve years old! Of course she was a child. At least Callie had done something right by forbidding her to attend this disgraceful event.
‘Where exactly will the séance take place?’ Clara asked.
‘Sensible question,’ Wyndham said, beaming approvingly at his descendant, who he referred to as his granddaughter, even though there were many more generations between them than that.
He’d only learned that Clara was related to him around ten months ago, and he’d been over the moon to discover he had living, breathing family in Rowan Vale.
Even better, he had an entire family who could see him and talk to him, because Clara’s three sons could see him too, and even her baby daughter was smiling and waving at him now – as he’d proudly told just about every resident of Rowan Vale multiple times.
His gushing had got on Silas’s nerves at first, but deep down he understood why having living family in the village meant so much to Wyndham. There were many times when Silas wished… Ah well, there was no point in thinking about all that.
‘She suggested the Wyrd Stones,’ Callie said.
There was some murmuring at that revelation.
‘Not the Penitent King,’ Polly called. ‘I won’t have that disturbed, Callie.’ She looked round defiantly. ‘It wouldn’t be right,’ she said. ‘It’s just… not decent, is it?’
‘No, of course not,’ Callie said hastily. ‘I totally understand. Actually, Mariska suggested the barrow might be the best place.’