as ever, thought Jack.
“That was quite a show, Basil,” said Eiss, tending to his camera. “Wind blew the damned thing right over.”
“We’re not going to need that any more tonight,” said Jack. “This séance is over — don’t you think, Basil?”
“I fear so,” said Basil. “When the ring is broken, the connection to the spirit world is lost.”
“About bloody time too,” said Crispin, heading over to the main light switches. “There’s enough dirty linen been washed here tonight — you satisfied, Brennan?”
“I certainly am,” said Mandy. “Saves me having to tell you about the hotel.”
Jack watched Crispin flick the switches and the room filled with harsh electric light.
Jack looked around: there were still chairs spilled on the floor and there was soot everywhere. Mandy was helping her father to his feet.
Basil looked like he’d been through an ink-filled car wash.
Stover stood with his arms folded — doubtless thinking about the mess he was going to have to clear up by morning.
Sarah seemed to have escaped the clouds of soot — but he could see something was bothering her. She stood, motionless at the side of the table facing the fireplace.
He followed her gaze, to the gilt mirror.
Where he could see words written in soot upon the glass. Written carefully, as if a finger had been daubed in the soot, and each letter, slowly, perfectly formed.
What the …?
He knew for an absolute fact that nobody had gone over to the fire — and certainly nobody had had the time to write a message.
“Good Lord,” said Basil, joining him.
“What the hell?” said Crispin.
Jack stepped closer to the mirror and read the words out loud.
“ Read the letter .”
“What does it mean, Basil?” said Lawrence.
“I’ve no idea,” said Basil.
Jack turned and faced the others.
“Well, I think I do,” he said.
Then he reached inside his jacket pocket, took out the plastic bag that Todd had given him and removed the tattered envelope.
Jack slipped the letter out of the envelope.
“My friend Todd found this when he was working on the chandelier. It must have been hidden in the floorboard above.”
Jack looked at the others.
A lot of secrets had just exploded in the room.
Crispin was probably already planning how he was going to stop the sale.
Ton of legal battles ahead …
But Jack knew this was important.
If Freddy existed — he thought — he would want to end the evening this way.
With the truth.
*
“My dearest Emily,” Jack started. “I write in haste! The Colonel has made threats against my life if I ever have contact with you again.”
“Emily? Emily Allsop?” Lawrence said.
Jack nodded.
Sarah looked across at the painting of the original owners on the far wall … Colonel Allsop, his wife — the age difference obvious.
Jack continued.
“But I don't care. Our love is stronger than any threats. We shall run away, you and I, and be together forever. Meet me tonight at the stone circle on Mabbs Hill. We shall leave this dreary village of Cherringham. I will wait for you, my sweet Emily!”
“Someone was planning to run off with the Colonel's wife?” Basil said.
Sarah already figured out the next part.
“Not someone , Basil. This letter, is signed … ‘your beloved Freddy’.”
And then, again the windows blew open — only this time the wind felt warm to Sarah, the breeze gentle.
Sure I shut those, she thought. Maybe the catch is broken …
“But the letter? It must mean …” Crispin asked … “Emily never met Freddy, never ran away …?”
“No. Because I imagine Colonel Allsop intercepted it. Fact, I bet he met Freddy on top of that hill. Knowing how handy the good Colonel was with a gun, I would guess if we did enough excavation up there we’d find Freddy’s body.”
Another gentle breeze.
Why gentle? Sarah thought.
Then … an answer.
If she believed it.
If she could believe it …
The truth had come out. Freddy’s story, the secret
“That was quite a show, Basil,” said Eiss, tending to his camera. “Wind blew the damned thing right over.”
“We’re not going to need that any more tonight,” said Jack. “This séance is over — don’t you think, Basil?”
“I fear so,” said Basil. “When the ring is broken, the connection to the spirit world is lost.”
“About bloody time too,” said Crispin, heading over to the main light switches. “There’s enough dirty linen been washed here tonight — you satisfied, Brennan?”
“I certainly am,” said Mandy. “Saves me having to tell you about the hotel.”
Jack watched Crispin flick the switches and the room filled with harsh electric light.
Jack looked around: there were still chairs spilled on the floor and there was soot everywhere. Mandy was helping her father to his feet.
Basil looked like he’d been through an ink-filled car wash.
Stover stood with his arms folded — doubtless thinking about the mess he was going to have to clear up by morning.
Sarah seemed to have escaped the clouds of soot — but he could see something was bothering her. She stood, motionless at the side of the table facing the fireplace.
He followed her gaze, to the gilt mirror.
Where he could see words written in soot upon the glass. Written carefully, as if a finger had been daubed in the soot, and each letter, slowly, perfectly formed.
What the …?
He knew for an absolute fact that nobody had gone over to the fire — and certainly nobody had had the time to write a message.
“Good Lord,” said Basil, joining him.
“What the hell?” said Crispin.
Jack stepped closer to the mirror and read the words out loud.
“ Read the letter .”
“What does it mean, Basil?” said Lawrence.
“I’ve no idea,” said Basil.
Jack turned and faced the others.
“Well, I think I do,” he said.
Then he reached inside his jacket pocket, took out the plastic bag that Todd had given him and removed the tattered envelope.
Jack slipped the letter out of the envelope.
“My friend Todd found this when he was working on the chandelier. It must have been hidden in the floorboard above.”
Jack looked at the others.
A lot of secrets had just exploded in the room.
Crispin was probably already planning how he was going to stop the sale.
Ton of legal battles ahead …
But Jack knew this was important.
If Freddy existed — he thought — he would want to end the evening this way.
With the truth.
*
“My dearest Emily,” Jack started. “I write in haste! The Colonel has made threats against my life if I ever have contact with you again.”
“Emily? Emily Allsop?” Lawrence said.
Jack nodded.
Sarah looked across at the painting of the original owners on the far wall … Colonel Allsop, his wife — the age difference obvious.
Jack continued.
“But I don't care. Our love is stronger than any threats. We shall run away, you and I, and be together forever. Meet me tonight at the stone circle on Mabbs Hill. We shall leave this dreary village of Cherringham. I will wait for you, my sweet Emily!”
“Someone was planning to run off with the Colonel's wife?” Basil said.
Sarah already figured out the next part.
“Not someone , Basil. This letter, is signed … ‘your beloved Freddy’.”
And then, again the windows blew open — only this time the wind felt warm to Sarah, the breeze gentle.
Sure I shut those, she thought. Maybe the catch is broken …
“But the letter? It must mean …” Crispin asked … “Emily never met Freddy, never ran away …?”
“No. Because I imagine Colonel Allsop intercepted it. Fact, I bet he met Freddy on top of that hill. Knowing how handy the good Colonel was with a gun, I would guess if we did enough excavation up there we’d find Freddy’s body.”
Another gentle breeze.
Why gentle? Sarah thought.
Then … an answer.
If she believed it.
If she could believe it …
The truth had come out. Freddy’s story, the secret
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