Chapter 18
Having seen Polly and shamefully admitted the truth to her while apologising about a hundred times, my mood had sunk to an all-time low. I knew there was nothing I could do to stop Melissa from betraying the ghosts. From betraying me.
Wandering like a lost soul around the village, I thought angrily of how Mel had refused to listen to reason, putting so much at risk. I couldn’t believe she’d put the chance of five minutes of glory on the television ahead of her own sister, and the wellbeing of the spirits and their poor families.
I thought of Danny’s and Brooke’s parents at home, finding out that Madam Mariska had been in contact with them, and that they weren’t at rest after all, but were trapped here in Rowan Vale for eternity.
How would that feel? It would break their hearts, and it would break the hearts of Brooke and Danny, too.
As for Polly and Harmony… I shuddered at the thought of how they’d be hounded in the future.
There were so many ghost hunting groups out there.
So many people fascinated by the cult of the dead celebrity.
So many true crime fans who loved to visit the scenes of grisly murders.
Polly’s death had been forgotten about over the last eighty years or so, but now it would all be raked up again – especially when Madam Mariska revealed the name of Polly’s killer.
I was so hurt, angry and disappointed with Melissa. How could she be so selfish? It wasn’t as if the ghosts had even confided in her. It had been me they’d talked to. Me who’d spilled the beans to my sister.
I imagined her in the woods by the barrow, revelling in the rapt attention of her audience, playing up to the camera, when all the while it was me who had the gift, not her. If I’d been in her position, I would never have gone ahead with this farce.
The trouble was, she still thought of herself as the great medium and considered me to be second-rate at best. All that stuff about her channels being temporarily blocked!
What rubbish. As far as she was concerned, I was just someone filling in for her until her gift returned.
Then, no doubt, I’d be dropped like a hot potato.
Tough luck on her that her gift would never return.
Whatever she hoped, I knew it wasn’t coming back and, given her recent behaviour, I could only see that as a good thing.
Hadn’t she said that she didn’t see the ghosts clearly?
She could hear them and sense them, but she didn’t see them as normal people the way I did.
She could make out a blur, a sort of misty form nearby.
If she was lucky, she might pick up on something unusual about them – a certain shape of hat, for instance, or if they were carrying an item like a sword or a bag.
It wasn’t like that for me. To me, ghosts looked just the same as the living.
So who was the better medium? I could do what Melissa did and ten times better, and I’d have integrity.
I’d never do anything to cause the spirits hurt or embarrassment or any kind of stress. It should be me at the barrow tonight!
I knew my thoughts were whirling out of control, but I couldn’t seem to help it. Years of resentment were bursting forth from me, and I had only one thought: to show Melissa that I had more talent than she’d ever had.
Frustrated and angry, I marched back to the cottage where Honey was waiting for me, her eyes watchful as if she sensed there was something different about me tonight. I had a strange restlessness about me that was completely alien.
As I made a mug of herbal tea in the hopes of calming myself down, Honey whined and paced up and down beside me.
‘It’s okay,’ I said, feeling guilty. ‘I’m all right really. I don’t know what’s happening, but it will pass.’
I bent down to stroke her, hoping my words would soothe her, but as I straightened, my gaze fell on a bag that was standing on the corner of the worktop. A bag I’d completely forgotten about.
I snatched it up and looked inside. The teacup and the brooch! I remembered that strange encounter with the shopkeeper in the Curiosity Shop and how I’d wondered if I might be able to use these items to bring forth the spirits of their owners.
I glanced at the clock. Quarter past eleven.
A growing thought brought a smile to my lips and a sudden churning of excitement in my stomach.
What if I did just that? What if I beat Melissa at her own game and proved to her once and for all who was the better medium?
While she was playing her parlour games, using my information to amaze the crowds at the barrow, I could genuinely bring spirits to me at the stone circle. Where better?
Of course, I knew deep down that I was being ridiculous.
I didn’t even know if the original owner of the teacup was dead, and if they were, they might have passed over, as the owner of the brooch most certainly would have done.
Or, for all I knew, I might already have heard about the owners from Polly and Millie.
They could be some of the ghosts that were wandering around the village every day.
But what if they weren’t? What if these were ghosts that Polly and Millie didn’t know about? What if these ghosts lived at The Monastery?
At the thought, my heart stilled. Bloody hell! What was I thinking? Why would I want to draw anyone from there to me?
But…
What a coup if I could! And let’s face it, they couldn’t do anything to me. Ghosts had no physical powers. They might shout and complain but they couldn’t hurt me. Deep down I knew that. I’d known it at The Monastery.
And it would show Melissa that I had more talent in my little finger than she had in her entire body.
I bit my lip, wondering if I should do this. But there was a growing determination in me that I’d never felt before. I wanted to do this. I wanted to prove it to my sister, yes, but I also wanted to prove to myself just how much I was capable of.
Mind made up, I switched off the kettle, clipped the lead to Honey’s collar, and picked up the bag again.
‘Right,’ I told my faithful dog, ‘you and I are going on a jaunt to the woods.’
I was going to follow the pumpkin path and see exactly where it led me.
The pumpkin path was still illuminated, thank goodness.
I supposed it would remain so until after the séance was over and everyone had gone home.
I wondered briefly how Melissa was getting on, and if she’d done the big reveal of Polly’s killer yet, or if she was waiting for the stroke of midnight for more effect.
At the end of the main path stood the King’s Court. It looked particularly lovely tonight, with illuminated pumpkins between the stones and pumpkin fairy lights strung around the entire circle.
Honey had been quite happy as we made our way to the site, and I watched her closely as we walked into the circle, but she showed no signs of distress or fear.
I opened the bag and placed the Whitby Mourning Brooch and the chipped teacup on the central stone in the middle of the ring. The Queen Stone.
The stone wasn’t level at the top and I had to be very careful how I positioned the cup so it didn’t fall off, but eventually I managed it.
I stepped back, almost tripping over Honey who’d moved behind me without me realising. It was as if a spell had been broken.
‘Sorry, girl,’ I said, rubbing her ears affectionately as I shook my head slightly, feeling rather dazed.
While Honey sat quite still, looking perfectly contented as I fussed over her, I let out a long breath as all the drama that had flooded me just minutes ago seeped away. I looked around me, as if realising where I was for the first time.
‘What are we doing?’ I asked her. ‘What a crazy idea to come here!’
I looked at the brooch and the cup and shook my head in bewilderment. ‘What am I supposed to do with those? This is ridiculous.’
Honey gave the tiniest woof, as if she fully agreed with me but didn’t want to sound too judgemental. I laughed and went back to the stone to collect the items. It was almost midnight and we should be at home in bed.
But as I picked up the brooch, I realised I didn’t want to just give up and go home. I was here for a reason, and I wanted to carry it out.
I put the brooch back and stared at the two items, feeling thoroughly perplexed. What was I supposed to do with them? How could just staring at a brooch and a teacup achieve anything?
I lay my hands over them and closed my eyes, not entirely sure why. There was a stillness in the air. The rustles of the leaves in the night air faded, there was no sound of insects, birds or any kind of wildlife from the woods. It was as if everything around me was holding its breath.
I, on the other hand, exhaled slowly to steady myself and tried to empty my mind of thoughts of revenge or anger or fear. Especially fear.
As I stood there, my hands resting on the cold jet brooch and the rim of the teacup, what came into my mind was most unexpected. It was the image of the shopkeeper, as he’d opened the door to me before I’d even knocked.
I remembered him showing me the brooch and saying, ‘When you’ve lost someone you love, it’s the best you can hope for, isn’t it? That they’ll have eternal life.’
‘You’re a very odd shopkeeper.’
‘It’s a very odd village.’
I remembered the feeling I’d had when I’d left the shop – as if I’d accomplished something. And yet, all I’d done was buy a brooch and an old cup.
But I hadn’t bought them, had I? He’d given them to me. It was a shop and he’d given them to me. Why?
My fingers gently touched the rim of the cup. ‘You like it? Even though it’s broken?’
I held the piece of jet carefully in my hand. ‘I’ve a feeling you and this brooch were meant for each other.’
The way he’d smiled at me. The way he’d been so keen for me to take them for nothing, even though he could surely have made a few hundred pounds from the brooch at least. Why?
I realised the brooch and the cup were feeling much warmer.
My pulse began to race and voices chimed in my head – voices that I didn’t recognise saying things I didn’t understand because I had no context for them.
It was like I was hearing snatches of long-ago conversations.
My mind began to whirl, and I felt a sudden nausea, not sure what was happening or how to stop it.
‘This is most peculiar. How very odd!’
‘Where the hell am I? And who the hell are you?’
Different voices. Were they in my head or were other people speaking?
I wasn’t sure any more and I couldn’t seem to open my eyes to find out.
Despite the warmth beneath my hands, the rest of me felt icy cold.
I half sobbed, not sure what was happening, and wishing with all my heart that I’d stayed in the cottage with Honey.
At that very moment I heard the calls of two tawny owls: the too-wit of the female and the answering too-woo of the male. Honey gave a short bark in reply, and my eyes snapped open.
I gave a gasp and stepped back from the stones, letting the cup and the brooch go. I was freezing! What on earth had just happened?
Fearfully, I looked around me, but everything was just as it had been a few seconds ago. I looked at my watch and gasped. I’d been standing there with my eyes closed for a full ten minutes! How was that even possible?
And it was gone midnight. Any moment now, the séance would end and the ticket holders and the cameraman and the journalists and the ghosts – and Melissa – would make their way back towards the King’s Court on their way home. I had to get out of here.
With some reluctance I picked up the cup and brooch from the stone, surprised to realise that they were just an insignificant piece of jewellery and an ordinary chipped cup after all, and shoved them back in the bag.
Then I grabbed Honey’s lead and set off back down the pumpkin path, muttering to myself under my breath about how stupid I’d been, and what had I been thinking?
Honey trotted happily beside me at first, but as we walked, she began to pull back on the lead, forcing me to stop and encourage her to keep going. She kept looking up at the sky and then staring towards the trees, which was a bit unnerving.
‘It’s probably just a fox,’ I told her – and myself. ‘Or a badger. Or… something.’
Honey growled, the fur on the back of her neck rising. I shivered and pleaded with her. ‘Come on, girl. We’re going home, remember?’
With obvious reluctance, Honey allowed me to pull her along and we continued down the pumpkin path.
Despite my constant reassurance to her, I couldn’t help feeling that something was with us.
It felt like we were being watched. I found my gaze frequently darting to the trees, certain I’d heard something, or seen something out of the corner of my eye.
‘The sooner we’re home the better,’ I told my dog shakily. ‘I’m so ready for a hot chocolate, and there’ll be a biscuit for you as a treat and a thank you for being with me.’
I froze suddenly and Honey barked. There was definitely someone behind me. I heard a distinct rustling and then… the snapping of twigs on the ground!
For a split second I contemplated running to hide in the trees, but then I remembered how both Honey and I had thought we’d seen someone or something there, too, and I wondered where we’d be safest. I was just concluding that the only thing to do was to run, when someone called my name.
‘Verity! What are you doing out here at this time of night?’
I turned and felt weak with relief. Mia! Then I remembered I hadn’t answered her text message and relief turned to embarrassment.
‘Just, er, walking the dog,’ I told her.
She ran up to us and exclaimed in delight as she stroked Honey. ‘Isn’t she gorgeous? I’m so glad to finally meet her.’
Honey was evidently just as glad to meet Mia, as she gave a joyful wag of her tail and, judging by her happy demeanour, had forgotten all about the menaces in the woods.
‘Is the séance over?’ I asked worriedly.
Mia laughed. ‘It is, if you can call it a séance.’
‘What do you mean?’ That sounded strange. I’d have expected her to be angry about the secrets Madam Mariska had revealed, but from her tone of voice I could tell that Mia wasn’t upset at all. What had happened?
‘Tell you what,’ she said, linking arms with me in a way that made me breathless, ‘why don’t you come back to Harling Hall with me for a hot cocoa and a buttered crumpet, and I’ll tell you all about it?’