Legacy of Greyladies (19 page)

Just before the top step, she paused and watched the light shimmer and form itself into the figure of a woman in old-fashioned clothing – late Tudor garments, if she remembered her history correctly. The figure slowly gained form and colour, now appearing as solid as herself.

The apparition was dressed in grey robes, with a white chemise showing above her bodice and white undersleeves, gathered at the wrist with the resulting frill edged in narrow lace. She had a half-moon headdress of grey velvet on her russet hair, from which a veil hung down her back.

Olivia suddenly realised the significance of the grey clothing. Of course! The house was called Greyladies. Was this … could it possibly be the ghost of one of the original occupants, a former grey nun?

She’d sensed ghosts before. All her family did. But she’d never seen one so clearly. She wasn’t afraid, couldn’t possibly be afraid of a woman with such a kindly expression.

The lady held the folds of her skirt in slender, elegant hands as she dipped into a sweeping curtsey to Olivia, who managed an awkward bob in return.

The ghost spoke then, in a soft, melodious voice, the words echoing slightly as if coming from a great distance. ‘Welcome to Greyladies, my dear Olivia. One day, quite soon, you will live here as chatelaine. And you will be very happy here.’

‘I will?’

‘You loved this house at first sight, I could tell. We who look after it all do.’

‘Yes, I did. I think it’s not only beautiful but welcoming.’

Olivia still felt no fear. How could she when the ghost’s eyes shone with love? She had never seen that emotion show so clearly in anyone before.

‘I will come back to help you whenever I can,’ Anne Latimer said. ‘I can help … sometimes …’

The light began to fade and with it the figure until only a few drifts of bright sparks remained, winking out one by one.

Olivia wished the ghost had stayed because Anne had brought a serenity with her, a serenity that had been lacking in Olivia’s life since Charles’s death.

It took her a while to realise where she was. How shocking! She’d come into a stranger’s house and ignored her hostess to walk up the stairs and speak to a ghost.

But anyone who lived in this house must surely have seen the Tudor lady as well. She was such a vivid apparition.

With a sigh, Olivia turned and went back down the stairs, to where her hostess was waiting for her. She was still finding it difficult to speak coherently because her mind was full of the wonder of what had just happened, but she ought at least to try to apologise.

Another gentle voice spoke to her and when she gathered her wandering wits, she found that Mrs Latimer had come across to her, leaving the other two women standing further away.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Harbury?’

‘Yes. Thank you. I’m sorry if I seemed … rude.’

‘No. You were doing what was necessary.’

‘Necessary?’

‘It happens with us all.’

That was puzzling and Olivia had so many questions
she didn’t know what to ask first. ‘Who was the lady?’ she managed at last.

‘She was and still is, I suppose, Anne Latimer, the founder of the Latimer family who built and still own this house. She always appears to greet the women who are going to live here as chatelaines. It happens when they first visit Greyladies. That’s how we recognise them. And sometimes she appears to warn us of danger or to comfort us as best she can.’

Olivia stared at her, amazed at what she was saying. ‘Me, live here?’

‘Yes. And if Anne appeared to you, that means you and I must be related. Do you have any Latimers among your ancestors?’

‘Well, yes. It was my maternal grandmother’s maiden name.’

‘Ah. Then you and I are distant cousins, as I’d guessed. Come and sit down and we’ll talk. You must be feeling a little disoriented still.’

‘I am. More than a little. But I knew she was real, I just knew it.’

‘Of course she is.’

‘She has the most wonderfully kind eyes.’

‘I think so too. She must have been a strong woman to save the family legacy in such troubled times. I’ll tell you her full story one day. Here. Take this chair.’

Miss Bowers was smiling gently at her from a sofa and Babs was sitting next to the old lady, looking ready to burst with curiosity. Olivia sank down on the chair, unable even to raise the energy to reassure her friend that she was all right.

Mrs Latimer rang the bell and asked the maid to bring them a tea tray, then told the two visitors a little more about Anne Latimer.

‘But what exactly does her appearance
mean
?’ Babs asked.

‘That Olivia will one day become chatelaine of Greyladies and I will leave. We Latimers only hold the house in trust. We can’t sell it or leave it to someone else. It passes down the female line, but
we
don’t choose to whom. Either Anne chooses her successor or fate brings the right person here. Who knows how that happens?’

‘Aren’t you upset about it, Mrs Latimer?’ Olivia asked. ‘If it means I’m going to take over this beautiful house, that will mean you leaving. How can you bear to do that?’

‘Do call me Phoebe and I’ll call you Olivia, shall I? And to answer your question, no, I’m not upset – well, only a little. I do love this house and shall be sad to leave it, but as soon as I became pregnant, I began to feel … distanced from Greyladies, less of a Latimer chatelaine somehow, more Corin’s wife.’

‘What will your husband say?’

‘Corin agreed to give up his own family home, which he loves dearly, to marry me and live here. He even changed his name to Latimer. It’s my guess that when the war ends and he leaves the army, we’ll both move into his home, because it’s what fate intended.’

‘Good heavens!’ Babs said. ‘I’ve never believed in ghosts before. Only, well, I saw the light and I couldn’t think where it came from.’ She stared at the others. ‘I can tell that you all believe in ghosts.’

Miss Bowers smiled. ‘That’s because we’ve all seen Anne Latimer.’

‘I’ve seen other ghosts as well,’ Olivia admitted. ‘Only I don’t tell people about that because they’ll think I’m mad. My husband came to say goodbye to me after he was killed.
I’ve heard his voice several times since then, and I’m quite sure it wasn’t my imagination. But his voice is fading now, growing fainter each time I hear it.’

‘As is only right,’ Miss Bowers told her gently. ‘He’s allowing you to make a new life and he is moving on, too.’

Olivia saw Babs shake her head in bafflement but she wasn’t in the mood to argue with her friend. She needed time to think about it.

‘Can you both stay here for a day or two?’ Phoebe asked Olivia. ‘I think you should get to know Greyladies and we have plenty of room.’

Olivia turned to look at Babs.

‘I can’t, I’m afraid. I have to get back to London.’ Then Babs brightened. ‘But you can stay, Olivia, and I can send Alex down to pick you up whenever you’re ready. He’ll be quite happy to do that.’

‘I said no matchmaking!’ Olivia snapped, but when Babs pulled a cheeky face at her, she stopped scowling. ‘Oh well, I do enjoy his company, so I don’t mind too much.’

She turned back to Phoebe. ‘I’d be happy to stay for a while, then. If that’s what you really want.’

‘I do. It’s good to have time to hand over the house, and there is a trust to deal with as well, so we’ll need to introduce you to the family lawyer.’

‘I think,’ Babs said suddenly, ‘I’ll set off for London this afternoon, if you don’t mind. You’ll be able to tell our new friends more about Women’s Institutes, Olivia, and I can start making some practical arrangements to help found them. Well, if you’re still interested in spreading the word, that is.’ She paused, head on one side, waiting.

Olivia didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course I’m still interested. It
seems I’ll not be taking over Greyladies yet.’

Babs outlined the present situation of the WI movement to the other two. ‘The Committee is thinking of employing Voluntary County Organisers, but you know how long committees take to arrange anything. I shall pay your expenses in the meantime, Olivia, to help you make a start in Wiltshire. No, I insist. You’re not rich and I’m comfortably circumstanced. But you must sell your husband’s car and buy one you can drive, because you’ll need to travel around.’

Since she was aware that Babs was more than ‘comfortably circumstanced’ and indeed, had more money than she knew what to do with, Olivia didn’t protest. ‘Very well.’

‘It’ll work out quite nicely, I’m sure. Unfortunately I can’t become a Voluntary County Organiser myself, because I still have other duties in connection with the war.’

‘Do you think I’m doing the right thing staying here?’

‘Only you can tell that.’

Olivia glanced over her shoulder, looking across the huge room to the minstrels’ gallery. ‘I think it’s already been decided for me.’

‘Won’t you find life in a village rather quiet?’

‘I’ve discovered that I enjoy village life. Though not when I’m forced to live with my cousin Donald. I even enjoyed working in the village shop. That experience will help me understand the women we want to attract to the WIs. And I do need something different to do with my life until …’ She shrugged and glanced at Phoebe.

‘Until you take over here,’ her hostess said with a smile.

‘And Alex?’ Babs prompted. ‘What about him?’

‘Stop bringing him into this.’

‘Well, it’s obvious that the two of you are attracted. Anyone can see that.’

‘If anything happens between us, it’ll happen without your help. He and I are both quite capable of working out how to manage our lives. Besides, I don’t have to rush into anything. The ghost said the changeover wouldn’t happen quite yet. So I can carry on with the work on WIs, see if I can help a few get started, see if that feels worthwhile.’

Babs smiled at her. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then. I’d better set off for London. I don’t want to be driving after dark.’

She said goodbye to Phoebe and Miss Bowers. ‘Don’t bother to come out with us. Olivia can get her suitcase then I’ll be on my way.’

As Olivia stepped away from the car, Babs said urgently, ‘If you need help, any sort of help, don’t hesitate to phone me.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Will you be going back to your own home after you leave here?’

‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t even like the thought of leaving Greyladies.

Olivia waved goodbye to her then frowned. She felt suddenly uneasy, as if someone was watching her, sending waves of hatred her way, not from the house but from the side of the gardens nearest the village.

How silly could you get?

She turned resolutely to face her future and once she was inside the house, the strange feeling faded and joy filled her again.

Sidney Hatterson sat in his usual armchair and watched the car stop outside his house, wondering who it could be. Then two ladies got out, spoke to a passer-by and went to the old hag’s cottage. Soon afterwards the driver came back and moved the car, so Sidney knew the visitors must be more damned Hun-lovers, like the old hag.

He’d taken a dislike to Miss Bowers the minute he saw her and avoided speaking to her. People might say she was a kind old lady, but he didn’t agree at all. How dare she look at him as if he was a naughty boy? Typical schoolmistress. She’d probably caned her pupils as hard as his teacher had caned him.

It made him even angrier that a woman had been driving the car. Women shouldn’t be driving vehicles at all. They weren’t capable of doing it properly, weren’t safe on the roads. Look how she’d parked it the first time! Nowhere near Miss Bloody Bowers’ cottage.

He kept watching. Well, what else had he to do with himself with only one leg?

Then all three women came out and got into the car.
Out of sheer curiosity he slipped out of the back door and went down the narrow lane between the cottages to a slight rise from which he could see which direction they’d taken.

They left the village and went towards the only house on that road – Greyladies. He should have guessed they’d be going there. That Latimer woman was another who needed teaching a lesson, a female who’d let Huns live in her house. He couldn’t bear to see the same villains who’d shot off his leg walking freely round his village.

Ha! They weren’t walking about at the moment, were they? He and his friends had put a stop to that, made them afraid to poke their snouts outside the trough.

He wished the women had left their car outside the hag’s house and walked to Greyladies, as Miss Bowers usually did. If they’d done that, he’d have given the driver something to think about. He fingered his penknife regretfully. He could have ruined one of her tyres easily. Just bend down as if to pick something up and give it a couple of slashes. That’d have shown her she couldn’t look after a car, let alone drive one properly.

The Pocock family, who ran the village store, were sharp-eyed and would notice if he walked openly towards the big house. And there were always females in the village church, fiddling around with flowers or pretending to be useful. So he had to stay out of sight of that, too. He didn’t let
his
wife waste her time on that sort of thing. She had enough to do at home.

He walked in another direction and once he was out of sight, he took a little-used footpath across the fields to the ruins of the old abbey. He didn’t like it there. The place made
him shiver. But cutting across the back was a useful way to get out of the village to Greyladies without being seen, so he ignored his discomfort.

As he walked past the entrance to the crypt, with its wrought iron gates, he scowled at the big lock on the door. If it was part of a church, it should be open to everyone. He stopped on a sudden thought. He had an old padlock, might be able to use it here to cause them more trouble.

Then he heard sounds, and from behind a tree he watched the two women come out to the car.

It was damned cold, but he lingered to watch. You had to know what your enemy was doing.

The chubby woman got into the car. The other one, the skinny redhead, took a suitcase out of the vehicle, waved goodbye and went back into the big house with it.

So she was staying, was she? Well, she’d regret that decision when she got caught up in the next stage of his plan.

He grinned at the thought. He and his friends were going to deal with that whole bunch of traitors and enemies. He might not be able to fight for England now, but he could still kill England’s enemies. Oh yes.

When he went home, he would find the old padlock and put it into his overcoat pocket, just in case.

In London Alex sighed and looked at his pocket watch. Seven o’clock. He should have gone home an hour ago, but who would know whether he was there or not?

Since his staff left for the day, he’d been wandering around his shop like a moonstruck idiot, wondering how Olivia was getting on, feeling as if something unpleasant was happening to her. Strange, that, but then he’d always had a
vivid imagination and sometimes the things he pictured in his mind actually happened.

It ran in his family. He’d been sternly warned as a child not to tell people about that, because they’d think him mad. As an adult he’d seen the sense of that and continued to keep his hunches to himself.

It surprised him how much he missed Olivia, when he’d only met her a few times. But he did miss her … very much.

Just as he was about to leave for home, the telephone in his office rang. He hesitated, decided not to pick it up, then curiosity got the better of him and he rushed to snatch the receiver off the hook, nearly sending the stand off the edge of his desk as he did so. You had to wonder whether there might not be some better design of telephone apparatus than this glorified candlestick.

He leant forward to speak into the mouthpiece at the top of the stand. ‘Seaton Antiques.’

‘Babs here, Alex. Look, I’ve just got back from our trip to the country and I’ve a few things to tell you. Also, Olivia is going to need picking up from Wiltshire in a day or two, so of course I thought of you. If you’re free, that is. If you’re interested …’

‘You’re a meddling woman, Babs, as I’ve told you many times. But if your meddling gives me a genuine reason to spend time with Olivia, go ahead and meddle any time. Of course I’ll pick her up.’

‘You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?’

‘Yes. But I’m not going to discuss that any further with you. It’s between her and me.’

‘That’s what she says, too. But I’ll need to tell you about where she’s staying and what she’s going to be doing there,
and it’s quite complicated, so why don’t you come to supper at my house tonight? It won’t be a fancy affair, so don’t get dressed up. You and I will have a simple meal and a chat. I didn’t want to come to your shop tomorrow, because we can get interrupted there. How about eight o’clock?’

‘I haven’t eaten yet so that would be delightful. I’ll come to you instead of going home.’

He hung the receiver up, pleased at the prospect of company tonight. It would be easy enough to leave his business for a few days and drive Olivia anywhere she needed. He’d been lucky and found some very capable employees who could be trusted to keep things going as he’d have wished. He didn’t believe in breathing down people’s necks and checking their every action and none of his staff had abused his trust. On the contrary. They surprised him sometimes.

He drove to Babs’s house and was shown straight into her personal sitting room where a small table in one corner was set for two.

Babs bounced over to greet him in her usual ebullient way and asked the maid to have the food sent in as soon as it was ready. ‘I hope you don’t mind eating straight away, Alex dear, but I’m ravenous.’

‘I’m hungry too.’ He hadn’t been till he got her call.

‘Let’s sit at the table. I don’t think the food will be long.’

He seated her and took his own place. ‘Tell me how your trip went.’

‘Oh, it was excellent.’ She launched into a tale of all their doings, making him smile. Then, after their soup had been taken away and the main course brought in, she looked at him more seriously. ‘But what you really want to know is what has happened to Olivia.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll just have a few mouthfuls of this, then I’ll tell you.’

He barely touched his own food as he listened to her. When it came to the scene with the ghost he could hardly breathe, he was so enmeshed in what she was saying. It was almost as if he could see it for himself.

‘She wasn’t afraid of this ghost?’

‘No. Apparently, it’s a very benign spirit. Even I saw the light, such a soft, beautiful glow. And now Olivia is staying at Greyladies for a few days to get to know the place and, well, it sounds as if she’ll be living there one day. If it’s all right with you, she’ll phone you when she wants to leave. Unless you’re too busy …?’

‘You know I’m not. I’ll never be too busy to help her.’

‘I wanted to explain and give you time to think about it – you know, about how you and Olivia could manage lives so far apart.’

He surprised himself. ‘I’d sell my business in an instant, if necessary, to be with her.’

‘You
are
badly smitten.’

‘Yes. But she’s still grieving so I have to be patient.’

‘I think this new turn of events has jerked her out of her mourning. She said herself that her husband’s voice is getting fainter in her head.’

Alex hoped she was right. He changed the subject. ‘You were talking about setting up Women’s Institutes. If I can help in any way with that, money or time or whatever, I’d be happy to do so, Babs, and not just because of how I feel about Olivia. I see women all the time who are downtrodden, hardly allowed to breathe for themselves, let alone think. And then I meet women like you who are busy and fulfilled. It doesn’t seem fair.’

‘Most men don’t care about the details of women’s lives.’

‘Perhaps I have some fellow feeling. I’ve always suffered from being the family weakling. People used to treat me as if my brain was affected as well as my body, my mother always spoke about me as “poor Alexander” when I was little and left me almost completely in the hands of my nursemaid. As I grew older and looked like surviving, my father tried to dictate everything I did. He’d have kept check on how I breathed in and out if he could.’

‘More fools they!’

‘Yes. But I’m financially independent now, in spite of everything, and have been able to manage my life as I please for many years.’

‘You’re one of the shrewdest businessmen I know.’

They finished the meal, chatting amicably about mutual friends and the latest developments in the war. He left around ten, seeing how tired Babs was.

He would now have to wait till Olivia telephoned him to say she was ready to be picked up. That couldn’t happen too soon.

After Babs had left Greyladies, Miss Bowers soon followed. ‘I need a rest in the afternoons now. So annoying when a body grows older and weaker, and a mind still thinks it’s young.’

‘Just a minute.’ Phoebe rang for Ethel. ‘Could you please walk back with Miss Bowers? We don’t want any more incidents and she can’t run away as you or I could.’

Miss Bowers scowled at that. She hated needing to use a walking stick.

‘And then, when you get back, Ethel, could you please
prepare a bedroom for Mrs Harbury. She’s a distant cousin of mine and will be staying here for a few days.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

After Miss Bowers had left, Phoebe turned to her guest. ‘Would you like me to show you round the older part of Greyladies now or do you want to rest?’

‘I’d love to see more.’

‘Unfortunately, the War Office has requisitioned the front part, though I’m sure the commandant, Captain Turner, will let me show you round the downstairs rooms. The internees are a very pleasant group of people, mainly elderly gentlemen, but a few women live here as well. My former employers, the Steins, are among them.’

‘How strange that they’ve ended up interned here!’

‘Yes. But it was a piece of good luck for the house. Mrs Stein is enjoying herself, mending and altering curtains. She says if I buy her a sewing machine and find some material, she’ll make new ones where needed. These particular Germans are
not
our enemies, I promise you.’

‘I’ve witnessed the odd act of violence against Germans, some of whom have been living in this country for decades. I detest that. You don’t need to worry. I’m not likely to be rude to the internees.’

‘Good. So let’s do a quick tour, then you can wander round on your own at will.’

‘I’d love that. Oh, and Miss Cowley said I should visit the crypt. Would that be possible one day?’ Olivia looked round with a smile. ‘You know, I feel very much at home here already.’

‘I was the same when I first came into the house. As for the crypt, of course I’ll show it to you. It’s a very peaceful
place, with some lovely stonework, but we keep the entrance barred, because we don’t want anything damaged. There’s a passage from the crypt into the cellars. There are one or two surprises like that in the house. I’ll show you them gradually. It’d be too much to take in all at once.’

‘How fascinating! I’m honoured that you trust me enough to tell me these secrets.’

Phoebe laughed gently. ‘The grey lady has chosen you. She always knows. And how could I not trust the next chatelaine who will be caring for this house after me? Now, let’s start with the ground floor.’

There was a knock on the door and Ethel poked her head round it. ‘I took Miss Bowers back. That Hatterson is keeping watch on this house again. I saw him hiding near the crypt and thought I should warn you.’

‘Oh dear! I have such a bad feeling whenever I think of him.’

‘Miss Bowers seems to distrust him, too,’ Olivia said. ‘She warned us not to leave the car where he could get at it. Is he really that bad?’

‘I must admit I don’t like him. I’ll be interested to see what you say after you’ve met him.’ She shuddered. ‘And
he
makes no bones about wanting “the Huns”, as he calls them, to leave Greyladies. I think he’d kill them if he could.’

Olivia was shocked. There was going to be a lot to think about and learn here. But oh, she loved the old house already.

Phoebe left Olivia to explore the attics on her own the following day, because she’d been asked to speak to Joe’s mother, who was worried about him. Joe came to fetch her in the pony trap, looking sulky. Usually he chatted as
they drove out to the farm but today he was silent.

‘You’re very quiet. Have I done something to upset you?’ Phoebe asked as the silence continued.

He shrugged. ‘No. Sorry. It’s Mum. She’s going on at me because I want to join the air force. I think I can do that earlier than I’d get called up for the army, if she and Dad will only give me permission.’