Mr Scarletti's Ghost (18 page)

‘I could not be more certain!' exclaimed Miss Whinstone. ‘He spoke of his will, which he had signed only days before he died, and how glad he was that he had done so, as it had made matters so much easier for me to manage. He was always so thoughtful.'

‘I hope he had good advice for your future,' said Louisa.

‘Yes …' said Miss Whinstone, uncertainly. She paused and her eyes narrowed in concern. ‘At least, I think so.' She gave a nervous laugh. ‘Of course some of it was not entirely clear to me, it was all a matter of interpreting the little knockings and I fear that there may have been times when I became confused and misunderstood. But Miss Eustace assures me that if we were to try again then I would become more adept at following what is said.'

‘What was it you thought he said?' asked Louisa, quickly urging Simmons to bring more refreshments.

‘Oh, it was very private, very—' Miss Whinstone shook her head at the proffered plate, and gulped her tea so quickly she almost choked. The brightness of her mood had faded, and her smile became more brittle and then broke. ‘Oh, my dear Mrs Scarletti, I really do not know what to do for the best!' Her hands shook and Simmons removed her teacup to the table before there was an accident.

‘If you felt able to confide in me,' said Mina's mother, encouragingly, her eyes glistening at the promise of a secret communication, ‘I might be able to advise you; and my dear Harriet, if I may call you that, for we have been friends for some little time, I beg you please to address me as Louisa.' She sipped her tea and savoured the sweet taste of a biscuit.

Miss Whinstone looked relieved, and Louisa gave Mina a sharp look and a nod toward the door to convey the suggestion that she ought to leave the room at once. Another glance at Simmons and a peremptory gesture was a command to remove both the tea tray and her daughter. Mina was preparing to depart, when Miss Whinstone abruptly rose to her feet. ‘I think – I should go now. Louisa, you are kindness itself, but—'

‘Mina and Simmons are both about to leave us, so we will be quite private,' said Louisa quickly.

‘Yes, I understand, and perhaps when I am more composed, I will call on you again, and we will speak further. It may just be that I have made a silly mistake – indeed I hope that I have done – and I would regret it if I spoke too soon.'

No persuasion could induce her to remain, and Miss Whinstone made her goodbyes and hurried away before she was tempted to say more.

Mina avoided her mother's accusing look, since she was in no temper to be blamed for Miss Whinstone's decision to go home, taking her confidences with her. She wondered how well Miss Eustace had been rewarded for that private consultation, a question it would have been improper to discuss. It was no mystery to her why Archibald Whinstone had, by coincidence, become bosom friends with two men who had disliked him in life and whose widows just happened to be members of Miss Eustace's circle. The deceased men bound the living relatives closer together in sympathy, and accounts of the private séances would pass very rapidly around Brighton, creating a stir of interest that no one with any pretensions to fashion could afford to ignore.

The reference to Archibald Whinstone's will was, however, unexpected. It was not something that Miss Eustace could have known about; a private family transaction that had taken place almost two years ago, and which was hardly newsworthy. It was a small personal detail that had obviously served to convince Miss Whinstone that she was indeed conversing with her brother, and, Mina was forced to admit, would have weighed somewhat with her had she received similar intelligence from her father.

These thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of two letters, the first of which Louisa read with some astonishment and pleasure. Mina was about to retire to her room, but her mother insisted she remain. ‘I wrote to Professor Gaskin as you suggested, begging him to intercede with Miss Eustace about the question of holding a séance here, and would you believe this is a letter from the lady herself. She is extremely generous and says that she does not blame you in any way for what happened, but feels that there may be some disturbance in the vital energy – whatever that might mean – when you are present. At any rate she wishes to pay us a visit, and has also asked that Mr Clee might accompany her as he seems able to bring balance to the energy. Both, it seems, are very eager to converse with
you
. That is quite extraordinary! But I am relieved to say that she does not preclude the idea that we may hold a séance here.' Louisa gave Mina a stern look. ‘The entire plan will almost certainly stand or fall on your behaviour. I will issue an invitation forthwith, but I must warn you that you must do nothing to upset the vital energy.'

Mina gave her mother her solemn pledge as to her good behaviour. Louisa's mood was further improved by the second letter, which was from Mr Bradley. He stated that she and Mina had been sorely missed at his new enlarged healing circle, and begged them to accept the honour of being his special guests on the next occasion. Louisa, without troubling herself to consult Mina as to her wishes, promptly replied in the affirmative on behalf of them both.

On the following Sunday, Reverend Vaughan showed no lessening of his endeavours to keep his flock on the true path. He took as his text 1 Timothy, chapter 4: ‘In the latter time some shall depart from the faith giving heed to seducing spirits and the doctrine of devils, speaking lies and hypocrisy …' It had come to his notice, he said, that some of his flock were in danger of departing from their faith and heeding these lying, seducing spirits. Some had even dared to compare the demonstrations of mediums with the miracles of Jesus Christ. Reverend Vaughan was uncompromising. These so-called ‘miracles' performed under the concealing cloak of Stygian darkness could only be the work of fraudulent false prophets living off the gullible who followed them like so many credulous sheep. He reminded the congregation that when the Lord Jesus Christ performed his miracles he did not do so in secrecy and darkness, but in the full light of day, so that all men might witness the glory of God's goodness. Neither did He use the curious paraphernalia that, so he had been informed, these mediums employed. Jesus did not retire behind a curtain to change water into wine, and He preferred healing the sick to playing tambourines.

When the service was over, there was a great deal of amused chatter from the faithful, but Louisa remained tight-lipped.

When Mina next visited Eliza she took with her a gift of two of her stories. One was the tale of a young sailor, who, when he discovered that his shipmates were vicious thieves, refused to join in their depredations and was cruelly murdered, his body thrown overboard into a stormy sea. It sank to the ocean floor, many miles deep, where the handsome corpse was found by a beautiful mermaid, who entombed it in coral, and then fell in love with the sailor's ghost. But she could not speak to him and he could not see her, so their love was doomed. She pined away and died, and after her death they were finally united. The second story concerned malevolent spirits that lived in a wooden chair. It was discovered that the chair had been made from the wood of a tree used to hang murderers and had absorbed their wicked influence at the moment of their deaths. The haunting, once its source was recognised, was quickly resolved with the aid of a sharp axe and a good fire.

Eliza was eager to know what Mina was currently writing and so she described the tale of the ghostly orchestra, which was as yet incomplete. ‘I am not sure how to end it,' she admitted. ‘I would like the heroine to escape the castle unharmed, but I fear readers may be tired of the device where she simply stumbles across another secret trapdoor, or a hidden passage, and I suppose it would be too much of a coincidence to have a prince or a good fairy arrive to rescue her.'

‘If I might suggest something?' asked Eliza, timidly.

‘Oh, please do!'

‘Why not have the lady meet a friendly ghost who will show her the way?'

‘That is an excellent idea!' said Mina.

‘Like you, I do not believe that the spirits of those who meant us no harm in life can mean anything but good after death. But the owner of the castle in your story – is that not meant to be Professor Gaskin? I have never seen him, of course, but Daniel has amused me greatly with descriptions of him.'

‘You are very perceptive to notice that,' said Mina. ‘Yes, the character is inspired by the professor. Fortunately he is unlikely to read my stories, and even if he did I suspect that he would not recognise himself.'

Eliza studied the engraving on the front cover of the mermaid story. The creature was more fish than woman, and what woman there was peered decorously from a waving mass of seaweed. ‘I wonder if I might write a story?' she said. ‘I do so enjoy tales of the sea, and often wonder what it must be like to be able to swim so freely. If one was half woman and half fish it would be easy. Oh, but I should not steal your story from you, I must think of something else! An octopus man who can fly, perhaps!'

They both laughed.

The conversation turned to the correspondence in the
Gazette
, which Eliza had been following with considerable interest. ‘Daniel says he does not know quite what to make of Miss Eustace,' said Eliza, ‘that is to say, is the lady a fraud or not? Have you spoken to her?'

‘No, but I will soon have the opportunity as she will be visiting us this afternoon with her new acolyte Mr Clee. He, I think, is one of those energetic young men who like to be at the forefront of everything, and can be neutral about nothing. If he cannot oppose something with all his might then he will propose it with equal force. He seems to admire Miss Eustace; perhaps they will make a match.'

‘You must come and tell me all about their visit,' said Eliza, eagerly, ‘and perhaps I might even prevail upon the lady to call on me.'

‘That would be amusing, no doubt,' said Mina, in a cautious tone, ‘but the lady must, I fear, be viewed in the light of a travelling conjurer, or as a kind of Madame Proserpina who tells fortunes on the West Pier for sixpence. The difference being that Miss Eustace plays tricks on the imagination and is more expensive.'

‘I will write to her,' said Eliza. ‘Perhaps she will call on me, too. I have never seen a conjurer and should very much like to. Do you know where she lives?'

‘That is all a part of her mystery,' said Mina, ‘I am not sure that anyone knows. If one must write to her then all correspondence should be addressed to Professor Gaskin.'

‘Then I will write to him – or better still, would you be so kind as to deliver a note to Miss Eustace this afternoon when she calls?'

Mina hesitated, but knew that if she did not do so then Eliza would find another means of sending a letter to Miss Eustace. ‘I will,' she said, reluctantly, ‘but only if you promise to heed my warnings, and above all, consult your brother and sister on the matter. If the lady demands large sums of money from you then she is a criminal and should be shown the door.'

Before she left, Mina expressed her concerns to Anna. ‘Of course we must protect her,' said Anna, ‘and I am very grateful that you have spoken to me, although I did suspect that it would come to this. But she is an adult with a mind of her own, and I would not prevent her from finding a diversion. I will permit a visit, but Eliza has no fortune to lose, so you may rest easy on that point.'

Later that day Mina completed her new story, and the helpful shade that guided the heroine to freedom took the form of a girl of twelve, called Marianne, with long pale hair.

J
ust as it had been an interesting exercise to see the Gaskins' parlour in sunlight, so Mina was grateful for the long bright summer afternoon, which enabled her better to gaze on Miss Eustace.

Soft shadowed gaslight that could be a friend to the vain had previously made the lady appear to be hardly more than twenty-five, but in Brighton's famous white glare Mina saw that she was older, perhaps by as much as ten years. She had a steady gaze, large grey eyes and expressive hands.

Mr Clee, who conducted her in a respectful manner, was not yet thirty, and determined to be cheerful good company whether this was required or not. He had a winning smile and made constant use of it, as if his entire mission in life was to fascinate ladies of all ages. Unlike so many young men whose opinion of themselves far outweighed the opinion of the world, Mr Clee had every chance of success. Louisa returned his smile prettily, and touched a brooch in her hair to ensure that it was still in place, and even the stony Simmons dared to blush, then quickly turned her head aside as if ashamed of her own susceptibility. Mina was immune to the charm of charming gentlemen, not that she had ever known it to be untrammelled by duty and pity.

Mina had the duty of delivering Eliza Hamid's letter to Miss Eustace, which, with some trepidation, she did.

‘How grateful I am that you have been so kind as to forgive my poor daughter,' said Louisa. ‘The mortification I would have suffered had you experienced the smallest discomfort would have been immeasurable. I was at the time on the very point of inviting you here to conduct an evening séance, and I was afraid, as to some extent I still am, that it might prove to be impossible.'

‘No one has anything with which to reproach themselves,' said Miss Eustace, kindly, ‘and I see no reason why I cannot conduct a séance here.'

‘Then I hope we may agree on a suitable day,' said Louisa eagerly, ‘and for your greater confidence, I will ensure that Mina is not present.'

‘Oh that will not be necessary,' said Miss Eustace. She turned her dreamy look towards Mina. ‘In fact, Miss Scarletti, I would very much like you to be there.'

‘Thank you,' said Mina, surprised.

‘But does she not upset the vital energy?' said Louisa, frowning.