Chapter Twenty-Three #2
‘Helen wasn’t too bad when she’d sobered up.’ Jo ushered Hattie into the meadow and waited for Bunty to catch up. ‘Very subdued, in fact. She hardly spoke in the car when I gave her a lift over to James’ house.’
‘How did they greet her?’
‘Sadly, Jack wouldn’t even come to the door. At the moment it seems that he doesn’t want his mother’s input into any aspect of his life. He wants her to stop drinking.’
‘That’s understandable.’
‘I guess she had it coming but I hope that she’s happy with her life in France. It would be nice to think that things had worked out for her with her younger lover.’
‘Not something you can do anything about, Jo. Stop trying to rescue the world.’
‘I know you’re right. They’ll sort it out.’
‘I wanted to ask you about Sir Henry,’ Hattie said.
‘Ah, you’ve got me out here to tell me that he’s popped the question?’ Jo laughed. ‘I thought Hugo would have got in first.’
‘Very funny. It’s not me he’s interested in. Haven’t you noticed the way he looks at Lucinda these days? Although I’d like a title.’ Hattie smiled. ‘Lady Hattie would suit me.’
‘What are you concerned about?’
‘He doesn’t seem to be himself. I wondered if he should see a doctor?’
‘We’re not a nursing home.’
‘I know. It’s just that the old boy is quieter than normal.’
‘Well, if he’s ill, he’ll have to go home. I’m not here to take care of the elderly.’
‘I’m just saying.’
‘Do we need to let his family know that he’s under the weather?’ Jo was concerned.
‘No, I mentioned that to Hugo and he said not to worry anyone.’ Hattie shrugged. ‘Maybe Henry is just tired.’
‘Let’s keep our eye on him over the next day or two and then make a decision?’
‘Aye, all right, if you think so.’
Bunty had followed the scent of the rabbit and was scampering around in the long grass. She circled the tepee and disappeared under the steps of the gypsy caravan.
‘Busy up here today,’ Hattie said and nodded towards the caravan, where a class, led by Queenie, was in progress.
The door was closed and the curtains were drawn.
‘Is there anyone there?’ Hattie whispered in a haunting voice. She closed her eyes and held out her fingers. She moved an imaginary glass around an imaginary Ouija board. ‘Has anyone got a message for me?’
‘Namaste!’
‘Bleedin’ hell!’ Hattie exclaimed and opened her eyes as the Shaman walked around the side of the caravan. ‘You made me jump.’
He held a wooden rattle in his hand and a bunch of sage in the other.
‘I’m glad that we’ve caught you,’ Jo said. ‘I’ve been meaning to have a word.’
‘There is one amongst us who is full of sadness.’ The Shaman spoke softly and Hattie frowned as she leaned in to listen. ‘We need to purify and cleanse the building of bad spirituality.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jo looked puzzled.
‘There is an evil presence.’
Hattie yawned.
The Shaman was stating the blindingly obvious.
You didn’t need a rattle and a couple of twigs to work that out.
Look no further than Hugo, Andy and that lunatic Lucinda.
Bob fell into the same category too. Hattie stuffed her hands in her pockets and, leaving the Shaman and his odd thoughts to Jo, wandered over to the caravan.
Hattie sat on the steps. She’d found a toffee in her pocket.
It was one of her favourites and she unpeeled the sticky sweet and popped it in her mouth.
Birds twittered overhead as Hattie gazed around the meadow, the sun warm on her face.
A crow swooped down and came to rest on a stone sundial.
It flapped its wings and walked around then settled in one spot.
Hattie eyeballed the crow. It tucked its brilliant blue and green wings in neatly as it returned Hattie’s stare. The bird was motionless, eyes beady, its dark pupils encased in a pure white iris.
‘It is a messenger of the gods.’ A voice spoke out from inside the caravan.
Hattie recognised Queenie’s voice. She sat up and cocked her ear towards the door.
‘Who is the message for?’ another voice asked.
‘For one who has lost their loving partner.’
A woman began to sob. ‘It’s me,’ she said. ‘It’s my Arthur. He’s come back to talk to me.’
‘The messenger says that you are in a safe place, a good place to learn and recoup and get ready to go back out into the world.’
Hattie looked up. She wondered if the messenger was reading a line from the Boomerville marketing brochure.
‘Arthur wants you to be happy and move on, take what you learn here from the many opportunities and go forward into a new life.’
Hattie was tempted to take notes. The messenger should do their copywriting.
‘And how will I know that it’s Arthur?’
‘He will come to you in the form of a crow.’
‘Oh no he won’t.’ Hattie jumped to her feet and began to clap her hands. ‘Be off! Go on, scoot!’
The bird watched Hattie and uncurled its wings. As it lurched forward, Hattie ducked to avoid a collision. She crouched down as the bird flew up and circled around the caravan.
‘Oh, I can feel him!’ the woman in the caravan called out. ‘It’s my Arthur. I know he’s near!’
Suddenly, a shape leapt out from beneath the caravan and, shocked, Hattie jumped back. She lost her footing and fell to one side.
‘Bleedin’ hell, Bunty!’ she yelled. ‘I thought you were old Arthur coming to take his loved one home.’ She fanned her face and lay back on the grass.
‘What’s going on?’ Jo raced towards the caravan and reached out to pull Hattie up. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Aye, fine, it’s like an episode of Most Haunted out here. Do you think we could get back to the hotel?’
The caravan door flew open and six faces peered out. They stared at Hattie as she staggered to her feet.
‘Can we help you?’ a voice yelled.
‘No, thanks, Queenie, everything is fine,’ Hattie said. ‘Just having a spiritual stroll.’ She brushed at her duffel coat with one hand. ‘But there’s someone up there who’d like to say hello.’
The faces looked up as the crow coasted on a rising column of smoke, drifting over from the tepee.
‘It’s my Arthur!’ the woman cried out and, with a swoon, collapsed back into the caravan.
‘Leave them to it.’ Hattie took Jo’s arm and marched her back down the garden, where they could see the Shaman walking around the hotel.
‘I’ve had a word and told him to not use so many strong herbs,’ Jo said.
‘I’m sure he’ll make a note of that and take heed.’ Hattie shook her head as they stood to watch the Shaman shake his rattle whilst waving a bunch of burning sage in the air.
‘Well, that should get rid of a few unwelcome spirits,’ Jo said with a giggle as they ran to the back of the building.
‘I can think of a few welcome ones,’ Hattie said as she burst through the conservatory. ‘Let’s get the bar open.’