The Midnight Rose (59 page)

R
ebecca laid down the pages and glanced at the clock by her bed. It was past midnight. She stared out into the dimly lit room, feeling her heart still pumping fast with adrenaline.

Violet Astbury had given birth to a child exactly where she, Rebecca, was lying now. Violet had been a perfectly healthy woman in her twenties, who had complained of headaches and nausea, and had subsequently died.

“Stop it!” Rebecca whispered to herself as she felt her panic rising. “Violet died in childbirth!” She stood up and paced the bedroom, talking to herself to try and calm down. “You’re not pregnant, for God’s sake, Rebecca . . .”

But then she remembered the doctor asking her if she could be, and that she was still waiting to hear the results of her tests. She burst into tears of fear and frustration. Even if her imagination
was
running away with her, one thing was for sure: she couldn’t stay in this room which was so full of Violet and her tragedy a minute longer. Shivering with panic, Rebecca decided she would go in search of Ari.

She tiptoed out of the suite and walked along the shadowy corridors, knocking softly, then opening each of the doors as silently as she could, trying to survey the darkened interiors. They seemed to all be empty along her corridor, so she walked across the landing, past the main staircase, and began quietly opening doors on the other side of it.

Then a sudden, familiar sound assailed her ears. It was very faint, coming from some distance, but it was the same high-pitched singing she’d heard in her dreams. Terrified now, but knowing she had to confront whoever it was making the strange sound which Anahita had described as a warning of death, Rebecca began to walk toward it.

She halted in the dark corridor. The singing was emanating from behind the door she now stood in front of. Using every ounce of her courage, her fingertips touched the doorknob and she turned it silently, then pushed it forward a couple of centimeters.

Rebecca peeped through the crack and into the room. A soft light glowed inside, and to her left she could make out a figure sitting in front of a mirror. Opening the door wider, Rebecca could see the figure was sitting at a dressing table, brushing her long, blond hair, singing to herself as she did so. Even from this distance, she could smell the summery scent of the perfume that had pervaded her bedroom at night—Violet’s perfume. Rebecca pushed the door a little further to try to see the woman’s face in the mirror, and the singing stopped abruptly. Something had alerted the woman to her presence.

As her head began to turn toward the door, Rebecca fled away along the corridor, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Almost back in the sanctuary of her room, a figure stepped suddenly out of the darkness and caught her as she ran.

Rebecca screamed out loud as the arms gripped hers and pulled her through the door and into her bedroom.

“Hush! It’s me, Ari,” he said as she continued to struggle out of his arms, gulping for air and moaning from shock. “Rebecca, what on earth has happened? What’s frightened you? Please, try to calm down,” he said as she leaned her hands on the bed and bent forward trying to slow her breathing.

“Ari, please, you have to get me out of here . . . I think I’m being poisoned, like Violet, and I just saw a strange woman sitting in a bedroom, brushing her hair and singing. I—” Rebecca took some more gulps of air to enable her to continue. “I don’t know whether she’s alive or a ghost, but I saw her, Ari, I swear. And I know she’s been to my room when I’ve been sleeping . . . oh God . . . Violet died in here!” Rebecca collapsed onto the floor. “Ari, you have to get me out of here, now, tonight! I’m so frightened, I’m so frightened,” she whimpered.

Tentatively, Ari knelt down next to her.

“Rebecca, I understand you’ve just had a shock, that you’re still unwell and perhaps have a fever, which can produce all sorts of hallucinations and—”

“No! I
saw
her with my own eyes and heard her with my own ears. Please, Ari,” she begged, “you’ve got to believe me. I’m not going mad. That woman was real!”

“Okay,” Ari said, “I believe you. So, let’s think about this rationally. This is an enormous house, with goodness knows how many bedrooms, and it may be that Anthony has a guest staying with him. I mean, he wouldn’t necessarily tell us, would he?”

“Yes, but I’ve felt her and heard her before,” Rebecca said insistently, “and sometimes at night in here, I can smell the perfume that she wears—that
Violet
used to wear. If there is another woman in this house, she’s been here for some time. But why wouldn’t we have seen her, and why has she been into my bedroom at night? I know she has, Ari. I’ve been so ill in the past week, these terrible headaches I’ve had, and nausea, just like Violet. I swear, someone is trying to kill me. I just want to get out of here!”

“Rebecca”—Ari watched her shoulders heave with fear and emotion—“I completely understand that, having read Anahita’s story this evening, you’d find some of the comparisons between you and Violet strange. But there’s absolutely no logical way that your presence here could have been engineered by someone who meant you harm. The fact that you’ve been sick hasn’t helped, but I think you’re letting your imagination run riot. Please, Rebecca, trust me. What I’m telling you makes sense.”

“I don’t care what makes sense, Ari, I want to leave this house,” she sobbed, “and I want to leave it
now
.”

“I hear you, Rebecca, but you know all the hotels around here will be closed for the night. It’s almost one o’clock in the morning. I’m sure you can move tomorrow.”

“My God,” Rebecca groaned, “I don’t even have a lock on my door; anybody could walk in and—”

“Rebecca,” Ari said patiently, “do you feel safe with me? I mean, do you trust me?”

She considered this. “I guess tonight I don’t know whom to trust.”

“Well, what I’m going to suggest is that I stay next door in the sitting room for the rest of the night. What you need more than anything else is some sleep.”

“Jesus Christ, if another person tells me that I think I really will go insane,” said Rebecca with a sigh.

“Even if they’re right?” Ari smiled at her. “Shall I help you up?”

“No, I can manage,” she said as she hauled herself shakily to standing and walked toward the bed. “And yes, I’d be grateful if you’d sleep on the sofa next door.”

“My pleasure. Good night, Rebecca.”

“Thank you. Sorry if you think I’m behaving like a wimp.”

“That’s okay. It’s understandable.”

“Ari?”

“Yes?” He paused by the door and smiled at her.

“Tomorrow, I want to ask you some questions about your great-grandmother’s story.”

“Of course, but for now, Rebecca, get some sleep.”

•  •  •

Rebecca woke with a start the following morning, feeling disoriented. Remembering what had happened last night, she climbed out of bed immediately, ran to the sitting room and saw that it was empty. Leaving the bedroom, she ventured out into the corridor and walked along it.

Standing at the top of the main staircase were Mrs. Trevathan and Ari. They were chatting together in low voices, and both turned at the sight of her.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” said Ari. “It’s past noon.”

“Oh my God! I’m due on set this afternoon and I have to pack my stuff and move out of here and—”

“Rebecca, please calm down, my love,” said Mrs. Trevathan, with Ari following behind her. “Ari has told me who you saw last night and I promise, there’s a very simple explanation. Come on now, let’s go back to your room.”

“Really, Rebecca,” said Ari comfortingly, “there is.”

“Well, I for one would like to hear it. I know what I saw and I’m not crazy,” she added defensively as they stepped back inside her bedroom. She sat on the end of the bed, her arms folded. “Okay, who was that woman? And why has she been in my room sometimes at night when I’ve been sleeping? Because she has, Mrs. Trevathan, I know she has!”

“Yes, dear, I believe you,” said Mrs. Trevathan. “The woman you saw last night is my mother, Mabel. She worked here as his lordship’s nanny, taking care of him from the time he was a newborn baby.”

“Your mother? But why is she here?”

“Please, Rebecca, let me explain. My father died twenty years ago and after Mum retired from the hall, she lived quite happily on her own in the village. But a couple of years ago, she started to take a few falls, and her mind began to wander. She is ninety-one, after all.”

“Of course,” Rebecca said.

“So I told his lordship I felt I had no choice but to leave his employment and go back to the village to take care of her. Well, he came up with a solution. He offered to turn two of the attic rooms into a
comfortable flat for her. At first, it worked well, and I could take care of her as well as his lordship, but in the past year, my mum’s health has deteriorated. His lordship then had the kindness to employ a full-time live-in nurse for her. I think you may have seen her in the kitchen on the day you arrived, dear.”

“Yes,” acknowledged Rebecca, “I did, and outside once too. She was pushing an old lady in a wheelchair. I thought they were extras on the film, to be honest.”

“Well, that was my mum. The problem is, Rebecca, sometimes her mind wanders, and so does she. Especially at night, when her nurse is sleeping. The room you saw her in last night was the room she used to occupy when it was his lordship’s nursery. It’s not the first time I’ve found her in there. So, dear, does that make you feel any better?”

“But I’m sure the woman I saw last night wasn’t an old lady.” Rebecca frowned. “I didn’t see her from the front, but she had long, blond hair and she was singing to herself while she brushed it,” she said.

“My mother certainly has long hair,” said Mrs. Trevathan, “but I’d call it more white than blond. I’m so sorry you’ve had some frights over the past few weeks, but I swear there are no ghosts in this house, nor anyone trying to harm you. Just an innocent old lady who sometimes gets confused about where she is.”

“I guess I just got upset reading the story about Violet Astbury that Ari gave me,” she admitted. “She had bad headaches, just like I’ve had, and after she died, they thought she’d been poisoned.”

“Rebecca was very overwrought last night,” said Ari. “She doesn’t think anyone is trying to poison her, do you, Rebecca?”

“No, of course not,” she said hastily, understanding his expression.

“I see,” said Mrs. Trevathan. “Well, why don’t you stay here and keep Rebecca company while I go and sort out a breakfast tray for her? I suggest scrambled eggs on toast. And I’m sure you can ask Mr. Malik to taste it first, dear, just in case you’re worried,” Mrs. Trevathan retorted as she left the room.

“Oh dear,” Rebecca said. “I’ve really upset her.”

“I’m sure she’ll get over it,” said Ari, unable to prevent a grin. “Now, the next question is, given that Mrs. Trevathan has given you a very plausible explanation, are you happy to stay on here, or do you want me to ask Steve to find you a hotel?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I did overreact a little last night.”

“Okay, well, let me know as soon as possible. If need be, I’ll do what some of my ancestors used to when they were in service to the Brits and lie flat out on the floor outside your bedroom door guarding you.”

“Ari, don’t tease me! But my God, the tragedy I read about last night.” She sighed. “What a dreadful woman that Maud Astbury was. And she was the one who brought up poor Daisy, Anthony’s mother. No wonder Anthony’s kind of weird.”

“Well, I was thinking that for a great family and an estate to survive for four hundred years, I’m sure those at the head had to be ruthless. Maud Astbury could see the end of the line and was prepared to do whatever was necessary to save it.”

“But she didn’t, did she? Unless Anthony has kids, the line stops with him anyway.”

“Yes, you’re right, it does. I read Donald’s diary last night, by the way, which was how I was still awake so late and heard you creeping around in the corridor outside. I was in the bathroom when you knocked on my bedroom door,” he explained. “The diary filled in some blanks for me too, so thank you.”

“Do you think we should give the diary to Anthony?”

“To be honest, I had dinner with him last night and if anything, I feel he’s shut himself off even further. I’m not sure what good it would do. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to know. And I understand that.”

“So do I,” she said with feeling.

“Rebecca, can I ask you something? Now that you’ve read the story, do you think Moh did die that day by drowning in the brook?”

Rebecca took a deep breath before answering. “I’m not sure how to answer that. I mean, there’s no proof either way, is there?”

“No, but after all my lack of faith in Anahita’s story, my instinct now tells me he didn’t,” Ari said quietly. “I’m desperate to find out the truth before I leave.”

“Well, you do realize, don’t you, that Tilly, Anahita’s friend from the village, was Mrs. Trevathan’s grandmother? Which means her ninety-one-year-old mother, who apparently gave me such a fright last night, played with Moh when she was a baby.”

“Yes, of course, you’re right! She’d almost certainly have been too young to remember anything, but you never know. Maybe I’ll pay her a visit later on.”

“I’m sure Mrs. Trevathan knows more than she lets on too,” said Rebecca.

“Perhaps, but she’s far too loyal to Lord Anthony and the Astburys to ever say a word. Still, I do think you’re safe here, Rebecca. I’d hate you to leave here believing in ghosts, or that you’re the reincarnated spirit of Violet Astbury.”

“Okay, lecture over.” She gave him a brief smile of resignation. “It does all seem rather crazy in the bright light of day.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few things to do, unless you want me to stay and taste your food?”

“Ari!”

“Only joking. See you later.”

Rebecca dutifully ate up every mouthful of the food Mrs. Trevathan served her even though she wasn’t at all hungry, or much of a fan of scrambled eggs. When Steve came to visit her after lunch, she pronounced herself well enough to shoot her scene later that afternoon, even though she was still suffering from the headache.