Charlotte’s Story (29 page)

“I ask the newly dead to hear us, to take pity on those of us who are bereft, like pitiful children.”

At the word
children
, I thought of course of Eva. Not the smiling girl I’d known, but the gaunt, wet waif who had visited me in Olivia’s morning room. And, oddly, of the boy who had been Press’s father. For he had, truly, seemed less like a husband than a sad, lost boy.

“Are you here, Zion? Helen? Who are the spirits who watch with us tonight?”

It was like St. Augustine’s prayer:
Watch thou, dear Lord, with those who wake, or watch, or weep tonight, and give thine angels charge over those who sleep.

Where were the angels watching over Eva?

I don’t know how much time passed. Had the others opened their eyes? Would the hall be different? There was a kind of light now inside my eyelids, but I couldn’t tell if it was coming from outside me or not.

“I can feel you here,” J.C. said. “I can feel how strong you are. Is that you, Zion?”

In answer, there was no sound, but a powerful smell of something sharp and sulfurous. Beside me, Rachel coughed, then began to make small gagging sounds.

“Breathe, my dear.” J.C.’s voice was reassuring, and calm. “Nothing will harm you.”

She continued. “Zion, is someone with you? Helen, perhaps? Helen, please speak to us. Give us some sign that you are there as well.”

We waited, but there was nothing. I felt none of the weakness or intense energy that I’d felt when I was in Olivia’s presence.

Then I heard the voice from somewhere above us.

“Mama? Mama, are you here?”

Press took my hand again, but he couldn’t have surprised me more than the sound of Eva’s voice.

“Keep your eyes closed,” J.C. said firmly. But there was excitement in her words. Eva’s appearance was what she’d told me we should hope for. “Don’t be alarmed.”

Was it Eva’s voice? Of course it had to be Eva’s voice. It was a little girl’s voice, and I was the only mama here.

“Eva, darling. Have you come to talk to your mummy and daddy?”

The voice had sounded so far away. I wasn’t sure if it came from above me, or behind me. In that strange, bright world of nothingness behind my eyes, there was no such thing as direction.

“I’m sleepy, Mama. Tell me what to do, Mama. Why can’t I see you?”

“Eva,” Rachel whispered.

It
was
Eva’s voice, Eva’s delicate, childish lisp that Nonie had been working hard to sharpen. Press had found it distressing, and worried that she would become ridiculous as an adult, but I hadn’t been concerned, believing she would grow out of it. Now it would never change.

“Tell her you’re here.” I knew J.C. was talking to me, but I found it hard to speak.

“It’s all right,” Press whispered. “She needs you.”

“It hurts, Mama. The water hurts.”

Unable to bear it any longer, I opened my eyes, and the brightness I had imagined was gone. The hall was still shadowed, though a curving rectangle of weak moonlight shone down from the dome and onto the wall beyond J.C.

Everyone else’s eyes were open and they were staring at me. Waiting. What were they waiting for?

“Talk to her.” J.C.’s voice was kind, but urgent. “They don’t stay long.”

“Mama.” Now Eva began to whimper.

The sound was coming from above us. Up on the second-floor balcony, I saw her. My baby. She stood on tiptoe looking over the railing, just outside Olivia’s room. That made sense, didn’t it? There was a faint light behind her, flickering, brighter than candlelight. Her curls, thicker than I remembered, crowded her face, and she wore the long white nightgown that I had sent to the funeral home with Nonie. But even in the strange light, I could see that her face was as pale as a mask.

Press squeezed my hand. “Can you see her?”

“I’m here, baby.” My voice was weak. Somehow it didn’t feel right. What had I expected? God, I wanted to believe that it was her! There were all these people surrounding us, and she was so sad. So upset. If it was Eva, I could do nothing for her.

“Should I go to her?” Was I waiting for permission from someone? She had come to me, first, in the morning room. She had touched me.

“Ask her what she wants.”

“She’s told us what she wants. She wants me. She wants to know why I let this happen to her. What else could she want? She’s not even five years old.” I dug my fingernails into my palms in frustration.

“Eva, I’m sorry. Mama is so sorry. Mama loves you.”

“That’s good.” J.C.’s voice was soothing. “Your mama loves you, Eva, darling. Can you rest now? We’re all here for you, Eva.”

“I’m scared, Mama. Help me.”

The sulfurous smell had finally dispersed. Perhaps Zion had gone, or he had never been there at all. Maybe it was the smell of death. I prayed that it wasn’t the smell of Hell, that my innocent Eva wasn’t in torment.

Pushing back my chair, I rose. When I’d seen Eva in Olivia’s room, she’d been so pitiful. Now she was my little girl again. Just sad. I didn’t know what had changed, but I was hopeful. That I might be with her had occurred to me, but how would it happen? Certainly I would have to die to be with her. Perhaps just to touch her, to give her my life. It wouldn’t bring her back, yet we would be together. My father had Nonie now. Michael would still have Press.

Press put a hand on my arm. “You shouldn’t, my love. You can’t really touch her.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Rachel said. “Let her go. That’s what we’re here for.”

I heard them, but I was focused on Eva. The light behind her had intensified and I couldn’t see her face clearly.

As I passed him, Hugh also put out a hand to stop me, but I brushed him off.

“I’m coming, baby.”

Eva turned her head so that I saw her in profile, though she was still so far away. It was such an easy, natural movement that my heart jumped in my chest. If only I could reach her, know that she was close to me! Then I would know what to do.

Behind me, the others were silent. I could feel them watching.

The light around Eva started to fade, and her outline with it.

“Wait for me, Eva! Wait!” I ran to the stairs through the shaft of moonlight, but the light around Eva continued to fade.

Taking my eyes from her for just a moment to steady myself on the stairs, I saw something pale and shining on the opposite side of the hall, at the railing of the third floor. Yes, I was losing Eva, but I couldn’t look away. Taking a few more steps, I saw that it was a person. A man? I wasn’t sure. The figure was slight, not very robust. Even in the faint light, I could see they were naked as they moved quickly, silently.

There was something fastened around the bottom of one of the railing’s spindles, and as I watched, whoever it was climbed awkwardly—yes, naked—onto the railing.

When I saw the rope, fashioned into a noose, slip over the person’s head, I cried out for them to stop, please stop!, but they kept on as though they hadn’t heard. They didn’t hesitate, and I knew I was going to see them die. But for just that moment I couldn’t turn away. I stared, taking in every strange detail. I watched as they raised one leg and then the other to climb over the railing, the thick length of ropes curled against their body. They climbed over the railing and held on, arms extended behind, readying. Somewhere in the background, I heard chairs falling over and Press and the others calling for me. Eva screamed a terrified scream as well, and the sound echoed in the big hall. Understanding exactly what I was seeing, I closed my eyes and
turned my head as the person let go of the railing and dropped, swinging, into the air.

But I wouldn’t let myself faint. Even as Press and Hugh and Jack gathered around me, restraining me on the stairs, I wouldn’t give up my consciousness or my sanity.

“Charlotte, darling. Speak to me.” Press gripped my jaw, trying to get me to look into his eyes, but I strained to look beyond him. To listen.

Running footsteps on the gallery just above us. A child crying. Eva! But no. It couldn’t be.

It hadn’t been.

Above us, there was no body swaying at the end of a rope. There was no rope.

Downstairs, someone switched on the chandelier’s light switch and the hall was flooded with light, blinding me as I looked upward.

Chapter 28

The Vision

I didn’t answer their questions, nor did I succumb to Jack’s insistence that he give me a sedative.

“You’re pale, Charlotte. Let Press put you to bed, and I’ll give you something.”

Though I’d had two simultaneous shocks, I hadn’t lost my wits. In fact, I felt better, clearer than I had in weeks. Standing on the stairs, I’d been overwhelmed for a few moments, and I’d gone to the brink—yes, a horrible, awful brink that felt strangely familiar to me. Maybe it was that my mother had been there before, and she had passed her vulnerability on to me. I don’t know why she’d gone there, only that she had and couldn’t stop herself from going over. But I had Michael, and, in some sense, Eva. I would not. I
could
not do what my mother had done and leave my child to be raised by his father. Alone. I had been terribly fortunate that my mother had chosen to marry a man who would be a good father. It wasn’t clear to me that I had chosen as well.

No one in the house with me then would understand the other thing I’d seen—except, perhaps, Terrance.

“No. You’re so kind, Jack. I don’t need anything. It was shadows, up on the third floor. Only shadows.”

“But we saw her.” Rachel was adamant. “We all saw Eva. Right there up on the second floor.”

Press was focused intently on me as I sipped the brandy he’d poured for me once we were all settled in the salon.

“I saw her. But she didn’t frighten me. Eva could never frighten me. It was the shadows.”

J.C. joined in the chorus, but I knew better than to trust her any longer.

“It was so sudden, Charlotte. Breaking that kind of psychic connection so quickly can be devastating. For you, and for. . . .” She didn’t finish. Was she trying to tell me that Eva—dead Eva—might be damaged by my alarm? I wanted to laugh at her, but I didn’t dare. They were all watching me too carefully.

Only Hugh stood silently in the background, looking out the night-blackened windows. I still wondered why he’d really decided to come. It had to be J.C., though there didn’t seem to be anything more than a casual friendship between them. Of course, no one else was supposed to know that something more had happened. I was surrounded by so much deceit.

“I guess if there was ever any doubt that Bliss House is haunted, it’s gone
now
.” Rachel laughed nervously, and I saw Jack shoot her a look.

I held out my hand to her. “Maybe
you
need something, Rachel. All this excitement can’t be good for the baby.”

Rachel looked at me questioningly. Had she narrowed her eyes just the slightest bit? I wanted them all out of the house, including J.C. Odious J.C. I wanted her away from me most of all. What I suspected her of now was worse than being my husband’s lover. She was a conspirator. Was Rachel the only one I could trust now?

“It’s not a laughing matter,” J.C. said sternly, looking at Rachel.

“Fuck you.” Rachel turned her back on J.C. and missed the latter’s look of serene disdain. The rest of us were used to Rachel’s occasional profanity.

“Jack, I want to go home. I’m exhausted and this isn’t fun anymore.”

I was glad that she and Jack were leaving. Perhaps Hugh would take the hint. Jack looked at Press, eyebrows raised. Press gave a slight nod. I relaxed a little.

“Yes, I think we’d all better call it a night,” Press said. He walked over to the bar table. “Quick one for the road, Jack?”

Rachel came to sit beside me. She started talking, but I missed most of what she said because I was watching Jack and Press at the bar.

When Press handed him his Scotch, Jack’s hand slid gently over Press’s and lingered there a moment before he took the glass. As Jack sipped, he watched Press closely as he talked, a look of comfortable pleasure on his handsome face.

“Charlotte? Are you listening? Do you want to come home with us, honey? You can go up and get Michael if it’s all just too much to stay here. I know you must be devastated. Eva was
so close
. It was as though she could just come downstairs and climb up onto your lap, wasn’t it? I don’t know when I’ve seen anything so strange.” She tilted her head, like a small bird. “Do you think she’d say anything else? I wonder if she knows what happened to her.”

Now that I was paying attention, I saw that Rachel did look disturbed, even afraid, as though she truly believed we had all seen the real Eva.

I wonder if she knows what happened to her.

I felt my face go hot. Had Eva known she was dying? Dear God, was Rachel being cruel, or just her thoughtless self? I shook my head, not really caring what question she thought I was answering.

“If you change your mind, the car knows the way to the house.” She called across the room to Hugh. “Hugh? It looks like Jack isn’t
finished drinking for the night, and it’s not even nine o’clock. Do you want to come by?” Before he could answer, Rachel rose awkwardly from the sofa, one delicate hand on my knee for support.

Her emerald green dress hung artfully from its Empire waist, but she was far too pregnant for it to disguise her baby bump. She wore gold-heeled sandals that complemented the gold satin collar of the dress. I had tried to stay fashionable during both of my pregnancies, but I never came close to Rachel’s precise style. She turned to call for Jack.

“Rachel.” I kept my voice low.

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“The back of your dress. Don’t you feel it?”

Rachel twisted her head over her shoulder and pulled at the side of her dress to look. She laughed. “Oh, shit. Press! Jack! My water broke.”