The Ghosts of Peppernell Manor (5 page)

T
he next day I was working on the ceiling in the withdrawing room. I was alone; the plasterer had decided that I could be trusted to perform repairs to the plaster ceilings without his constant presence, so he had gone back to Charleston until later in the day. I was focused on my work when I thought I heard a sound behind me. I turned quickly and saw Phyllis standing in the doorway to the withdrawing room. She held a broom and a dustpan in her hands and was staring at me with her dark eyes. I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I wondered how long she had been standing there.

“Hi, Phyllis. What's up?”

“Nothing. I'm just watching,” she replied.

“Okay. Just let me know if you need me to move or something,” I told her, still puzzled as to why she was just standing there.

She turned to leave the room, shaking her head. I heard her say, half to herself, “Sarah isn't going to like this at all.”

I had no idea who Sarah was. I didn't really have time to figure it out, either, since I had to finish what I was doing and get into Charleston to pick up Lucy.

Dinner that night was an uncomfortable affair. Vivian had apparently been apprised by Harlan of the possible change in Cora-Camille's will, and she insisted upon talking about it at the table.

“Cora-Camille, I hear you're thinking of letting the state of South Carolina manage this home and property.”

Silence. Harlan shot his mother a warning look.

Cora-Camille, unruffled, continued eating. Finally she spoke in her clear Southern drawl. “Yes, Vivian, I am. I've been thinking that Peppernell Manor could do the most good for the most people if it were managed by the state and used as a cultural center.”

“But why? What will happen to the people who live here after, God forgive me, you're gone?”

“Vivian, please,” Graydon growled.

“I would make sure that the family is allowed to live here,” Cora-Camille assured her. “I wouldn't leave you all homeless.”

“But how could we continue to live here with people coming in and out all the time?”

“It would be no different from the living arrangements if this home were taken over by the investors that you and Harlan keep trying to push on me,” Cora-Camille noted, a small crack appearing in her calm veneer.

“Well!” Vivian exclaimed, apparently highly insulted. “I think we'd have more control over the situation if this beautiful old treasure weren't managed by the state.”

“I don't.” Cora-Camille shot her a look that indicated that the conversation was over. Harlan hadn't said anything during the exchange. I wondered what he was thinking.

I was frantic to change the subject and stop the tension that was rising between the two women. I suddenly remembered my brief conversation with Phyllis.

“Phyllis came to watch me work in the withdrawing room today,” I began. “Who is Sarah?”

All eyes turned to me in surprise. Vivian put her napkin down slowly, sighing with disgust. She turned to Graydon.

“Graydon, we cannot have a domestic who goes around talking of such things. I am going to have to sit her down. The way she goes on is foolish.”

Graydon looked at his wife gravely. “Vivian, she's entitled to say whatever she wants. Who cares if she wants to talk about Sarah?”

“I do.”

“Well, let her be. She's not hurting you.”

“She's embarrassing me and the rest of this family.”

Graydon shook his head and went back to eating. I gave Evie a bewildered look.

“Sarah was Phyllis's great-great-great-great-great-grandmother or something like that,” Evie explained. “She was a slave who lived on this property. She worked in the manor and had her first baby when she was fifteen. Phyllis feels very close to Sarah and talks about her all the time as if she still lived here.”

“Phyllis talks to a ghost?” I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

“Yes. Believe me, everyone has that same reaction at first. But you'll get used to it—we all have.”

I shrugged. “If you say so. So why wouldn't Sarah like what I'm doing?” It felt strange to be wondering about a ghost's opinion.

“Talking about ghosts is disgraceful,” Vivian grumbled.

“Vivian,” Graydon warned.

She shot him a dark look.

“I don't know,” Evie responded to my question. “Sarah's opinions aren't always easy to figure out.”

I wasn't sure what to say next, so I turned to Lucy to help her with her dinner. I hoped to talk more about Sarah with Evie later that night, but she got a call from Boone and spent the evening in her room. I didn't mind too much, since I was very tired; I fell asleep just after Lucy did.

I had been asleep for a couple hours when the house phone rang just after eleven o'clock. There was no phone extension in my bedroom, but I had seen one out in the hall on a small table. With everyone in the house carrying a cell phone, this was the first time I'd heard the phone ring. I heard Graydon's deep voice answer the phone, then I heard a soft knock at my door.

“Carleigh,” Graydon whispered. “Are you awake?”

Fuzzy-headed from sleep, I shuffled to the door and opened it. Graydon handed me the phone with a smile. “Got a new boyfriend?” he teased.

I frowned. Why would anyone be calling me this late, and not on my cell? Why wake the entire household?

“Hello?”

A gravelly voice answered in a thick Southern accent. “You better get outta there, Carleigh. You're gonna find yourself in grave danger.”

“Who is this?” I demanded angrily. When there was no reply I slammed the phone down. Graydon, who hadn't even gotten back to his room, turned around.

“What's the matter, Carleigh?”

I was trembling. I was afraid my knees wouldn't hold me up. I told him wildly, “I don't know who that was. He just said I'd be in grave danger if I stayed here.”

Graydon had obviously seen his fair share of hysterical women and knew just what to do. “Carleigh, take it easy, honey. It was just some joker playing a stupid prank. Come here.” He held me in a big bear hug for a few minutes, smoothing my hair, then spoke again. “You are perfectly safe in this house. No one is going to hurt you here. I can sleep outside your bedroom if you'd like.”

I took several slow, deep breaths. His words made sense. Of course some jerk was just playing games, acting stupid. I would have loved for him to sleep outside my bedroom, but I was too embarrassed to admit it.

“Thanks anyway, Graydon. We'll be okay. I can't let some prank get to me.” I forced a laugh.

“That's a good girl. Now go back to sleep.” He took the phone off the hook before going back to his own room. I returned to my room, brought Lucy into bed with me, and wrapped my arms around her. She remained asleep, but I lay awake for the rest of the night.

Who could it have been? The only men I'd met were Graydon, Heath, Harlan, and employees of the stores I'd visited. There was Brad, of course, but he wouldn't waste his time with silly tricks—would he? No, it had to be someone I'd met since arriving in South Carolina. My mind turned the possibilities over and over, but no one had any reason to want me to go away.

The next day dawned hot and humid again. I got an early-morning text from Lucy's school stating that there had been a pipe leak in two of their classrooms overnight and the nursery school would be closed that day. I was actually happy to get the text, since there was no way I'd be able to focus on my work after that late-night phone call and it was about time that I took a day off anyway. I told Lucy I would take her into Charleston for a girls' day out and some touristy sightseeing. I hoped spending a few hours away from the manor would help me stop worrying about the phone call.

She and I and Cottontail set out early and headed straight for a park. We found White Point Garden, a small park right on the waterfront where we could explore together. There was a beautiful white gazebo there, as well as statues, lots of strong, ancient trees, Civil War sculptures, and a fountain. I had a hard time keeping Lucy dry and on solid ground once she got a look at the fountain. After spending some time at the park, I took Lucy's stroller out of the car and I pushed her up Meeting Street at a leisurely pace, stopping when either one of us wanted to. We wandered in and out of shops and boutiques and even found a bookstore where we could curl up on a couch and read together. We thoroughly enjoyed our time sightseeing. As it got close to lunchtime, I was pushing her in the stroller down Broad Street when I was surprised to see Heath walking toward us. He was slowly leafing through a document and didn't see us until he was quite nearby.

“Interesting reading, Heath?”

He looked up, startled. “Oh. Hi, Carleigh. Hi, Lucy. What are you two doing in town today?”

I explained about the leak at the nursery school and told him how we had spent our morning as Lucy complained about how hungry she was.

“I'm heading right over to that deli to grab lunch,” he said, pointing across the street. “Why don't you join me?”

“I'm hungry now!” Lucy wailed.

I laughed. “Okay. We'll come with you. If this child doesn't eat soon, she might waste away.”

Heath grinned and the three of us made our way to the deli. Once we had ordered and found seats out on the sidewalk under a bright umbrella, our conversation turned to the places that Heath thought we should visit on our “day off.” Knowing I was interested in history and architecture, he suggested that we first visit Rainbow Row, a string of over a dozen colorful historic homes built on East Bay Street. He also insisted that we visit St. Michael's Episcopal Church, not far from Rainbow Row, on the corner of Market and Meeting Streets. Built in the mid-1700s, Heath told me, it was the oldest church in Charleston and a National Historic Landmark. I listened as he discussed Charleston's history and some of the buildings that I simply had to see while I stayed at Peppernell Manor. He was very knowledgeable and I wished he could spend the afternoon with us acting as our own personal tour guide.

As lunch came to a close and we sipped the last of our sweet tea, a woman walked by our table. She was very tall with jet-black hair that cascaded down her back. A striking white sheath dress and red high-heeled shoes showed off her olive skin and fabulous figure. Heath looked up at her and almost choked on his tea. The woman slowed down, staring at us, then smiled coyly at Heath, tossed her head, and walked on.

“Friend of yours?” I asked Heath.

“No,” he answered, the tone in his voice brooking no follow-up questions. He gathered up his papers. “I hate to cut this short, but I do have to get back to the office. Court at two o'clock,” he explained.

“No problem. See you later, and thanks for the history lesson and suggestions,” I told him.

Lucy walked for a short distance after lunch, but it wasn't long before she started to get tired. I put her in the stroller and soon she was sound asleep. I was glad it was naptime, since I wanted to get a nice leisurely look at Rainbow Row and St. Michael's. Lucy might have had other ideas if she had been awake.

I walked to St. Michael's, where I was awed by the beauty and grace of the oldest church in Charleston, with its towering white spire, bright red doors, breathtaking stained glass, and ancient cemetery containing the graves of many historic figures from South Carolina, including two signers of the United States Constitution.

Then I wandered over to Rainbow Row, which I found easily. The street was like something out of a painting; indeed, I had seen many renderings of Rainbow Row in art gallery windows in Charleston. House after pastel house were delightful to see. I enjoyed the architecture and landscaping and the quaint atmosphere aided by antique lampposts, as well as the house markers that told some of the homes' histories, such as the original owners and the year of construction. Eventually Lucy started to stir in her stroller, so I snapped a few more photos with my phone and we set off for an ice cream shop I had noticed nearby. Once we had eaten our fill of strawberry ice cream, Lucy and I went to one more playground before heading back to Peppernell Manor. It was a great day, and I was almost sorry to get a text that evening that the nursery school would be open the following day.

That night I told Evie about the prank phone call.

“You're kidding,” she responded, mouth agape.

“I wouldn't joke about that.”

“Who do you think it was?”

I sighed. “If I only knew, I wouldn't worry so much about it.”

She seemed to brighten. “I'll bet Daddy's right. I'm sure it was just someone with nothing better to do than make prank calls.”

“But how did the person choose me? And how did they know I could be reached at your house?”

“People can get phone numbers anywhere these days. And there are lots of people who know you're staying here. It could have been someone from one of the stores you've visited, or someone from Lucy's school, or someone from back in Chicago. Anyone can fake a Southern accent. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

I hoped Evie was right.

I got right back to work the next morning. Having only to finish the plaster ceilings in the ballroom and sitting room on the first floor, I was excited to get past that phase of the work and begin the next phase, which would be the walls. The plasterer said I was doing a great job, and I was thrilled to be learning a new skill.

The two ceilings took several days of painstakingly intricate work, but I was very pleased with the result when it was finally done. The smooth white surface adorned with Greek key borders was beautiful, and the members of the family agreed.