Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
Morgan relished the warmth from the tea cup she cradled in her hands combined with the heat from the log burning stove.
It was so wonderful, she didn’t know if she would be able to move from this sofa when it was time to leave.
Ettie’s eyes sparkled in the warmth of the candlelight, and Morgan wondered why she had left if so long to visit the only woman she had left in her life that was tied to her by blood.
‘You’re busy, I get that, Morgan. I just miss seeing your beautiful face.’
‘How did you know I was thinking that?’
‘You were staring at me a little bit too intensely with regret in those green eyes that doesn’t belong there. I have never met anyone as selfless as you and, if I’m honest, I’ve been a little bit busy myself and should have made more of an effort.’
‘You have? What have you been doing, Ettie? I love hearing what you’ve been up to.’
Her aunt’s cheeks flushed a deep red. ‘Well, I am a bit embarrassed to say this, but his name is Ernest, Ernie for short, although if you ask me it’s just the same length and Ernest sounds so much nicer.’
Morgan was grinning so hard her cheeks were aching. ‘You have a guy? Why did I not know this? Where did you meet him? What are his prospects?’
Ettie had just taken a delicate sip of her tea, and she coughed, spluttered and then sent it spraying in Morgan’s direction as she snorted loudly and giggled. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so clumsy.’ She passed Morgan some tissues that she pulled out of the box next to her.
Morgan blotted the front of her face and blouse, still grinning. ‘I’m so happy for you, Ettie.’
‘Thank you and between you and me he has very good prospects, very wealthy, but I am obviously not interested in that side of things. The richest people in the world are usually the meanest. The guy takes me out on dates, romantic walks, he can cook too.’
‘Sounds perfect, when’s the wedding?’
Ettie reached over and gently slapped Morgan’s arm. ‘Cheeky, I might ask the same of you. Please don’t tell me that you and Ben have still not got your act together and agreed to love each other until death us do part.’
‘Actually, Ben’s been freaking out about that.
Declan was mad at him for not proposing to me in New York, but to be fair to Ben, I didn’t expect him to, anyway.
I was so excited to be going to one of my bucket list destinations, getting engaged wasn’t even on my agenda.
I’ve been thinking about asking him to marry me though. What do you think?’
‘I think you would be a fool not to; Ben is understandably worried you’ll say no. I think he doesn’t want to scare you away either. Would you have said yes if he’d asked?’
Morgan nodded. ‘In a heartbeat. I love him more than I ever knew it was possible to love someone, well most of the time. He’s been annoying me at work lately.’ She smiled, and Ettie did too. ‘But no relationship is ever a hundred per cent perfect.’
‘That, my girl, is perfectly normal. I couldn’t work with the man I lived with and the fact that you and Ben still make a great team when you’re in each other’s hair all the time is a testament to how much you do love each other.
You should ask him under a full moon, when she is round and complete in the sky.
It will make for a happy marriage, signalling that the two of you are as whole and complete with each other. ’
‘Thanks, I’ll think about that, Ettie. Oh, you threw me. Are you purposely trying to distract me from the reason I’m here?’
‘Would I do that to you?’
Morgan laughed. ‘I need to know all about the old summer camp on Buttermere fell.’ Ettie looked dejected. ‘Please, it’s very important, or at least it could be.’
‘I know, I’m sorry for being so secretive. Do you know the full history of the place?’
Morgan shook her head. ‘I heard the ghost stories when I was a kid at school, but until last night hadn’t had cause to pay them much heed.’
Ettie sipped some more of her tea, before placing the cup and saucer onto the old pitch pine blanket box that served as her coffee table.
‘How much of this is true and how much is local legend is for you to dig deeper and decide. I’m just telling you what I know about the place.’
‘That’s all I’m asking of you.’
‘Good. Well, let me see, I think it first opened its doors in 1888.’
‘The same year that Jack the Ripper was running riot around Whitechapel?’
Ettie nodded. ‘Yes, probably. Amos’s great-great-great grandparents moved here from London looking for a suitable place to open a camp site.
It was very revolutionary and forward thinking of them.
From what I gather it did very well. It was kind of like the original glamping place way before anyone had heard of it.
There was the mess hall, which is the only building still almost intact, although I say that loosely as it’s practically falling down according to Amos.
I haven’t seen it for myself in a long time.
There were clusters of canvas tents in a semi-circle, and each one had its own name.
Holidaymakers would travel from all over to be given a number and told which group they were in.
It had only been open for six months when they lost their first guest.’
‘What happened to them?’
‘There was a group of them out walking to a cave that used to be on the far side of the fell, and it had been raining. That heavy rain that we are so prone to get around here that can wash away the side of a mountain under the right conditions and cause utter chaos. They reached the cave but there was a terrible storm. They took shelter inside of it and were okay until the rain stopped. As they all crawled out of it there was a landslide, mud and rocks came cascading down at some speed and the last man out was crushed to death underneath it all.’
‘Oh my God, that’s awful.’
Ettie nodded. ‘This is hearsay, I can’t say for sure that it happened, but Amos said that the cave was practically filled in with the landslide. They pulled his mangled body out of the mess, sealed the cave up and never took anyone there ever again.’
Morgan shuddered at the thought of being crushed in a dark cave under a landslide. ‘Poor guy. You said that was the first death?’
Ettie nodded. ‘Then there were the five Sunday school teachers who drowned on the lake, on a summer camping trip. They were out in a boat with no experienced oarsman or woman to guide them. The rain came down again, they panicked, capsized the boat… they didn’t stand a chance really because their heavy dresses and petticoats dragged them all under the surface of the lake.
Every single one of them drowned while onlookers watched, helpless to save them. ’
‘Jesus, that’s horrific.’
‘It was. That was in the 1920s, I think.’
‘Did the camp close after that?’
‘Surprisingly no, it was ruled a dreadful accident and brought in the rule that all boaters had to wear a life vest out on the lake. It didn’t shut down until a couple of years later when two kids, sisters, also drowned in the lake.
This time it was a calm summer’s day, but the water can be deceiving.
It might look calm and weather might be roasting hot, but it can be colder than you could ever imagine.
They were nine or ten, they were racing each other and went too far trying to swim out to the boulder where the boat capsized.
Of course, they probably didn’t know that or realise quite how far out it was.
The coldness was too much for the younger girl and she went under, and her sister died trying to find her. ’
Morgan shuddered, she knew exactly how cold that water was. She had almost suffered the same fate, and this sat heavy on her heart. ‘Those poor kids and the women too, that’s beyond horrific.’
‘Yes, awful. Imagine watching your children having fun and in the blink of an eye both of them were drowning and nobody realised until it was too late and neither of them could be seen. That was the final nail in the coffin, excuse that awful expression. The camp shut its doors after that, no more campers. Just local kids who loved to tell ghost stories and scare the crap out of each other, sneaking in there after dark, searching for the ghosts. This is most likely why your teenagers were there last night. That mist wasn’t forecast, it just came out of nowhere, and once more that land has claimed innocent lives.
There is also the legend of the watcher, a nine-foot tall pale man who appears when it’s misty and the conditions are right.
People have heard footsteps walking behind them, and there have been a couple of sightings of a tall figure in the mist, like really tall.
Legend is if he walks behind you or you cross his path then your time is up. ’
‘That’s terrifying, where does this stuff come from? How did it get cursed, Ettie?’
‘No idea, Morgan, but it clearly is. There is too much tragedy that has happened there for it to be a coincidence.’
‘All those deaths were accidental though, weren’t they?
Nobody purposely drowned those women on the boat, or the kids who swam out too far.
The guy that got crushed to death, nobody did that to him.
All tragic accidents due to the weather conditions.
And don’t all remote places have lore attached to them?
This tall man could be their own shadows that would look much longer under the right weather conditions. ’
‘No, but it all happened right there on that fell. It’s a bad place, Morgan, and you would do well to steer clear of it.
Can you investigate from afar? You said yourself you almost drowned in that lake; you could have died.
As for the watcher, I’m not going to argue with you about him, it’s just what I’ve heard over the years and, for what it’s worth, you wouldn’t catch me out on that fell when there is low lying ground mist rising up. ’
‘A teenage boy died and his friend is still missing.’
‘Which is why you were probably saved, as it already had its victims. We need to figure out who cursed the land and how to break that curse, or if it’s the watcher we need to find out what he wants.’
‘We do? You’re serious, Ettie?’
‘Deadly.’
‘What have all those tragic deaths got to do with last night? How do we break a curse we know nothing about? Or find this watcher who only comes out in the mist?’
‘The land has claimed more victims. Whoever killed that boy and put him in the lake might not have been in full control of himself. He could well be a victim himself if it’s used him as a vessel.
Have you spoken to Amos today? Does he seem normal?
I worry that it could be using him to do its bidding. ’
This time the shudder that racked Morgan’s body made her spill her now cold tea all down herself.
Either Ettie was losing the plot big time, or there was more to this than a straightforward murder.
How the hell was she going to get Ben and Marc to listen to her? This would blow their minds big time.