This House is Haunted (32 page)

“I have not,” I said, uncertain why he was telling me this. Had he heard of a position going there perhaps and thought that it might be right for me?

“I think it might be just the ticket.”

“Just the ticket for whom?” I asked.

“Why, for Eustace, of course,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I have taken the liberty of making some initial communication with the headmaster and he has agreed to meet the boy for an interview, and should he impress, and I daresay he will, then he will be accepted for the beginning of the new school year.”

“I had a rather different idea,” I said, thinking carefully how to phrase this, particularly since I knew full well that I had no rights over the boy at all.

“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “What sort of idea?”

“I intend to return to London,” I told him.

“To London?”

And was it me or did I see a shadow of disappointment cross his face?

“Yes, in a few days’ time. I’m hoping that there might be a position for me at my old school. I always had a good relationship with the principal so with luck she might agree to take me back. I’d like to take Eustace with me.”

He looked at me in surprise. “But wasn’t your school a school for girls?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “But there is a school for boys on the other side of the road. Eustace could receive his education there. And he could live with me. I could take care of him. As I have been doing these last six weeks,” I added.

Mr. Raisin thought about it for a moment and scratched his chin. “It’s a lot to take on,” he said finally. “Are you sure that you really want the responsibility?”

“Perfectly sure,” I said. “In truth, Mr. Raisin, I cannot imagine leaving him behind. I feel that we have been through an
experience together, the two of us. I understand him as well as he can be understood. I believe that he has painful times ahead of him and I would like to help see him through those dark days. I can be a mother to him if the estate, if you, will allow me to.”

He nodded and I was pleased to see that he did not seem entirely opposed to the idea. “There would be the question of money,” he said after a moment, narrowing his eyes. “The house might be gone, but the land is worth a lot. Mr. Westerley’s own investments were spread quite wide. That money is locked up in the estate and will one day be Eustace’s.”

“I don’t need any money,” I said quickly, in order to reassure him. “And neither does Eustace. Take care of his inheritance until he is eighteen, or twenty-one, or twenty-five, whichever his father’s will stipulates, and manage it with your usual thoroughness and propriety. In the meantime we will be able to live quite comfortably on my salary. I am a frugal woman, Mr. Raisin. I do not require luxuries in life.”

“Well, there is still your salary to consider,” he added. “We could continue to—”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s generous of you but if I was to take a salary then I would once again be in the position of being Eustace’s governess, a paid employee. I would like instead to be his guardian. Perhaps, if it would set your mind at ease, you and I could be his guardians together. I would happily consult with you on important matters related to his upbringing. Indeed, I would consider it helpful to have your counsel on these matters. But I don’t want any payment. Should the estate see fit to help out with Eustace’s schoolbooks or things along those lines, I’m sure we could come to an agreement. But other than that, I don’t believe the issue of money is one that need concern us.”

He nodded and seemed satisfied, reaching out his hand to shake mine. We stood up and smiled at each other. “Very well then,” he said. “I believe we understand each other perfectly. And if I may say so, Miss Caine, I think that he will be a very lucky boy. A very lucky boy indeed. You are a fine woman.”

I blushed, unaccustomed to such compliments. “Thank you,” I said, leading him towards the door. Outside, he summoned the puppy, who looked back at Eustace regretfully as his master called him.

“He’s taken rather a shine to you, Eustace,” he said. “I expect this is goodbye,” he added, turning to me. “I will miss your impromptu visits to my office, Miss Caine.”

I laughed. “I’m sure Mr. Cratchett will be pleased to see the back of me,” I replied and he smiled a little. Our eyes met and we remained locked like that for a few moments. There was more to say, I was certain of it, but none of it could be said. Whatever it was must remain here, in Gaudlin.

“We shall talk again soon, no doubt,” he said finally, sighing as he turned round and raising his cane to bid me adieu. “Send me your address in London when you have it. We shall have to stay in close communication in the years to come. Goodbye, Eustace! Good luck to you, boy!”

I watched as he made his way down the driveway and the puppy followed for a little bit before stopping and turning back, staring at Eustace. He sat down on his haunches, looked back at his master and then at the boy again, and Mr. Raisin turned round and saw what was happening.

“So that’s how it is,” he said with a smile.

The following Monday, I returned to St. Elizabeth’s School and knocked on Mrs. Farnsworth’s door.

“Eliza Caine,” she said, rather unsettling me with her use of my full name; it put me in mind of Isabella’s tendency to do the same thing. “This is quite a surprise.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” I said. “I wondered whether I could have a few moments of your time.”

She nodded and indicated that I should sit down and I explained to her how the position in Norfolk had not turned out as I had hoped and I had decided to return to London.

“I seem to recall saying to you that you were rushing into that decision,” she said smugly, delighted to have been proved right. “Young women these days are rash in their judgements, I find. They should rely more on the advice of their elders.”

“I was also grieving,” I pointed out, wishing I could be anywhere but there at that moment. “I’m sure you remember that too. My father had just died.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, looking a little embarrassed. “Naturally you were not in a position to make the best judgement. I did say at the time that I was sorry to lose you and I meant it. You were an excellent teacher. But of course your position was filled. I could not leave the small girls without instruction.”

“Of course not,” I said. “But I wondered whether there might be another job opening up soon? I remember Miss Parkin saying that she would be retiring at the end of this term. Perhaps you haven’t found her replacement yet?”

She nodded. “That’s true,” she said. “And no, I haven’t yet advertised the post. But you see the position you put me in,” she added, smiling at me. “You have proved unreliable. Should I employ you once again, who is to say that you will not walk out on me with scant notice as you did once in the past? It is a school I’m running here, Miss Caine, not a …” She struggled to find a way to finish that sentence. “Not a hotel,” she added finally.

“My circumstances have changed somewhat,” I explained. “I assure you that when I set down roots in London again I will not be leaving. Not for anything.”

“So you say now.”

“I have added responsibility,” I told her. “A responsibility that I did not have before.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked intrigued. “Is that so?” she asked. “And pray tell, what might that be?”

I sighed. I had hoped not to have to engage in this conversation, but if it was to be the crux of whether or not I would be allowed back, I had no choice. “I have a little boy to look after,” I told her. “Eustace Westerley.”

“A little boy?” she asked. She took her glasses off and set them on the table, scandalized. “Miss Caine, are you trying to tell me that you have given birth? That you are an unwed mother?”

Six weeks before, my natural inclination would have been to blush scarlet, but after all I had been through I could only laugh now. “Really, Mrs. Farnsworth,” I said. “I realize that we do not teach the sciences at St. Elizabeth’s but I could hardly have gone away, become pregnant, given birth and come back again in such a short space of time.”

“Of course not, of course not,” she stammered, and now it was her turn to blush. “But then I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story,” I explained. “The son of the family I was employed by. Unfortunately his parents have died quite tragically. He has no one in the world. He is alone. Except for me. I have undertaken to bring him up as his guardian.”

“I see,” she replied, considering this. “How very thoughtful of you. And you don’t think that this will interfere with your work here?”

“If you are kind enough to take me back, then I hope to enrol Eustace in St. Matthew’s across the road. I don’t envision any problems pursuant to that.”

“All right then, Miss Caine,” she said, standing up and shaking my hand. “You may have Miss Parkin’s position when she leaves us in a few weeks. But I take you at your word that you will be reliable and not let me down.”

I agreed and left, relieved; it seemed as if my old life was returning to me, albeit without Father’s presence, but with Eustace’s.

Chapter Twenty-five

S
EVERAL MONTHS PASSED
and Eustace and I set up home in a small house in Camberwell Gardens, with a garden at the back for the puppy to run around in. Our days passed in quite a regular fashion. We ate breakfast together in the morning and then walked the ten-minute distance to our respective schools, me standing at the gate until Eustace had entered his, then crossing the road to begin my own day. Afterwards, we met again and walked home together, ate our evening meal and sat reading or playing games until bedtime. We were content with our lot.

Eustace thrived in his new school. He appeared to put the events of the previous few months behind him, and I learned in time that he did not wish to discuss them at all. I tried on occasion to bring up the subject of his father, mother and sister, but it was pointless. He would shake his head, change the subject, close his eyes, walk away. Anything to avoid discussing it. And I learned to respect that. In time, I thought, perhaps when he is older he will want to talk to me about it. And when he is ready, I will be ready too.

He made friends, two boys in particular, Stephen and Thomas, who lived on our street and went to the same school as him. I
liked it when they came to the house, for although they were mischievous, they meant no harm, had good hearts and, besides, I rather enjoyed their nonsense. Of course, I was only twenty-two years old by now; I was still a young woman. I enjoyed the company of these children, and the fact that they brought Eustace so much pleasure was a delight to me. He had never had friends before; there had only been Isabella.

In short, we were happy. And I trusted that nothing would come into our lives to disturb that happiness. We would be left in peace.

Chapter Twenty-six

A
S I WRITE THESE
last few paragraphs, it is late at night in December. Outside, the night is dark and the streets are filled yet again by this awful London fog. The house is chillier than usual, it has been for some nights now, despite the fact that I load extra coal in the fire and keep it stoked throughout the evening.

Eustace has been quieter these last few days and I do not know why. I asked him whether everything was all right and he simply shrugged and claimed not to know what I meant. I chose not to insist upon an answer. If there was something wrong, then he would tell me in his own time.

Tonight, however, as I tried to fall asleep I was distracted by something. A noise of some sort from outside the window. I rose and looked outside but could see nothing out there through the haze. I stood still and listened and realized that, no, it was not coming from outside at all; the sounds were coming from inside the house.

I stepped out into the dark corridor, holding a single candle in my hands, and made my way to Eustace’s door, which had been closed in the night despite the fact that I always insisted he
leave it ajar. I moved my hand to the latch, preparing to open it, but before I did so I was surprised to hear noise emerging from within. I pressed my ear to the door and realized that it was voices, two voices, locked together in a serious and quiet conversation. My heart skipped a beat. Was Eustace playing a game of some sort? Putting on a false voice and holding a conversation with himself for some perverse reason? I pressed closer and tried to hear what the two were saying, and it became clear to me that while one of the voices was definitely Eustace’s, the other belonged to a girl. How could that be? There was no girl in this house; no female except myself had set foot in it since we had moved here.

I listened more closely, not wanting to open the door until I could understand what was being said, but the words were too muffled through the oak. And then one word came through to me, as clear as day. Just one, a clutch of syllables, stated in Eustace’s clear tone and passing from his lips through the air, beneath the door and to my ear. I stood there, my blood freezing, my expression growing cold, a sense of incomprehension and terror filling my body when I realized what it was he had said.

A single name.

“Isabella.”

John Boyne
was born in Ireland in 1971 and is the author of eight novels, including the international best sellers
The House of Special Purpose
and
The Absolutist
, as well as three novels for younger readers, including
The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas
, which won two Irish Book Awards, topped the
New York Times
bestseller list, and was made into a Miramax feature film. His novels are published in more than forty-five languages. He lives in Dublin.

www.johnboyne.com