food, and you’ve got your health and strength. What more could you blinking ask for?”
Daisy opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment the door flew open, nearly knocking the petite girl off her feet. Her twin rushed into the kitchen, hair flying and eyes as wide as tea trays.
Gertie saw the girl’s chalk-white skin and felt a chill in her stomach. Even Mrs. Chubb seemed struck dumb for a second, standing there with one hand clutching her throat.
Doris seemed unable to speak, but just stood trembling in the middle of the kitchen, her throat working and her hands plucking at the folds of her apron.
Daisy was the first one to find her voice. “Whatever’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Doris nodded her head up and down. “I … I have!”
“Mercy me, whatever next!” Mrs. Chubb exclaimed, still staring at Doris.
“Whatcha mean?” Gertie said, getting up from the chair. Her hands felt cold all of a sudden, and she could feel the hairs on her neck prickling her skin.
“I saw
Peter
,” Doris whispered. She started trembling, so hard her teeth rattled.
Mrs. Chubb sprang into action, drawing the girl closer to the fire with an arm about her shoulders. “Now, now, my love, you’ve had a nasty fright, that’s for sure. Why don’t you tell us what happened? Here, sit down on the coal bin, next to the fire. It’ll get you warm in no time.”
Doris sank down on the leather lid of the bin, her knees shaking beneath her gray skirt. “I was coming out of room seven, when I saw him walking down the hallway. I went upto him, ’cause I forgot for a minute that he was …” She gulped, then finished in a high-pitched voice, “… dead!”
“Course he’s dead,” Gertie said loudly, more to convince herself than anyone. “The police took his body off the rack, didn’t they? So you couldn’t have seen him.”
“But I did!” Doris’s voice rose on a wail, and Mrs. Chubb patted the thin shoulders.
“Now, now.” She sent Gertie a swift frown. “Be quiet, Gertie, and let the girl tell her story.”
Gulping down a sob, Doris nodded her head. “It were him, Mrs. Chubb, honest it was. I saw him as plain as the nose on me face. I know what he looks like, I spoke to him long enough. It were him, I’d stake me life on it.”
“What did he say when you went up to him?” Daisy asked, looking as if she were fascinated by the story.
“Nothing.” Doris’s frail body shook violently, and Mrs. Chubb tutted.
“I’d better get you a spoonful of Michel’s cognac,” she muttered. “Hold still a minute, love, I’ll be back in a tick.”
She rushed off to the pantry, leaving Daisy and Gertie staring at Doris, who sat huddled by the fire as if she would never get warm again.
“Come on,” Gertie said, rubbing her cold hands together, “it had to be one of the other pipers. Playing a joke on you, he was, though I don’t think much about his bleeding sense of humor.”
“It weren’t anyone else,” Doris whispered. “I tell you, it were him. I know, I went right up to him. I touched him.”
“Well, that proves it, doesn’t it?” Gertie said with relief. “You can’t touch a bleeding ghost. Your hand would go right through him.”
Doris started shivering again. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet kitchen. “That’s exactly what happened. I put out my hand to touch his arm, and it went right through him. Then he just … disappeared.”
Gertie hardly noticed Mrs. Chubb come back with the brandy. She was too busy trying to still the quivers in herstomach. It wasn’t so much what Doris had said, as the way she had said it. Somehow Gertie knew the housemaid was telling the truth. And it scared the bleeding daylights out of her.
CHAPTER
9
Stepping out of the trap late that afternoon, Cecily was happy to see a thin stream of smoke rising from the chimney of Dr. Prestwick’s cottage. It would appear that the
Daisy opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment the door flew open, nearly knocking the petite girl off her feet. Her twin rushed into the kitchen, hair flying and eyes as wide as tea trays.
Gertie saw the girl’s chalk-white skin and felt a chill in her stomach. Even Mrs. Chubb seemed struck dumb for a second, standing there with one hand clutching her throat.
Doris seemed unable to speak, but just stood trembling in the middle of the kitchen, her throat working and her hands plucking at the folds of her apron.
Daisy was the first one to find her voice. “Whatever’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Doris nodded her head up and down. “I … I have!”
“Mercy me, whatever next!” Mrs. Chubb exclaimed, still staring at Doris.
“Whatcha mean?” Gertie said, getting up from the chair. Her hands felt cold all of a sudden, and she could feel the hairs on her neck prickling her skin.
“I saw
Peter
,” Doris whispered. She started trembling, so hard her teeth rattled.
Mrs. Chubb sprang into action, drawing the girl closer to the fire with an arm about her shoulders. “Now, now, my love, you’ve had a nasty fright, that’s for sure. Why don’t you tell us what happened? Here, sit down on the coal bin, next to the fire. It’ll get you warm in no time.”
Doris sank down on the leather lid of the bin, her knees shaking beneath her gray skirt. “I was coming out of room seven, when I saw him walking down the hallway. I went upto him, ’cause I forgot for a minute that he was …” She gulped, then finished in a high-pitched voice, “… dead!”
“Course he’s dead,” Gertie said loudly, more to convince herself than anyone. “The police took his body off the rack, didn’t they? So you couldn’t have seen him.”
“But I did!” Doris’s voice rose on a wail, and Mrs. Chubb patted the thin shoulders.
“Now, now.” She sent Gertie a swift frown. “Be quiet, Gertie, and let the girl tell her story.”
Gulping down a sob, Doris nodded her head. “It were him, Mrs. Chubb, honest it was. I saw him as plain as the nose on me face. I know what he looks like, I spoke to him long enough. It were him, I’d stake me life on it.”
“What did he say when you went up to him?” Daisy asked, looking as if she were fascinated by the story.
“Nothing.” Doris’s frail body shook violently, and Mrs. Chubb tutted.
“I’d better get you a spoonful of Michel’s cognac,” she muttered. “Hold still a minute, love, I’ll be back in a tick.”
She rushed off to the pantry, leaving Daisy and Gertie staring at Doris, who sat huddled by the fire as if she would never get warm again.
“Come on,” Gertie said, rubbing her cold hands together, “it had to be one of the other pipers. Playing a joke on you, he was, though I don’t think much about his bleeding sense of humor.”
“It weren’t anyone else,” Doris whispered. “I tell you, it were him. I know, I went right up to him. I touched him.”
“Well, that proves it, doesn’t it?” Gertie said with relief. “You can’t touch a bleeding ghost. Your hand would go right through him.”
Doris started shivering again. “I know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet kitchen. “That’s exactly what happened. I put out my hand to touch his arm, and it went right through him. Then he just … disappeared.”
Gertie hardly noticed Mrs. Chubb come back with the brandy. She was too busy trying to still the quivers in herstomach. It wasn’t so much what Doris had said, as the way she had said it. Somehow Gertie knew the housemaid was telling the truth. And it scared the bleeding daylights out of her.
CHAPTER
9
Stepping out of the trap late that afternoon, Cecily was happy to see a thin stream of smoke rising from the chimney of Dr. Prestwick’s cottage. It would appear that the
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