Twelfth Night (A Wendover House Mystery Book 2) (10 page)

Fear no more the heat o' the sun;
Nor
the furious
winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and
ta'en
thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney sweepers come to dust.

Bryson spoke next, again eschewing scripture in favor of a
poem by Auden. The one that goes:
Stop
all the clocks, cut off the telephone.

That Harris knew Shakespeare did not surprise me, but that
Bryson could recite poetry came as a pleasant revelation.

That Everett remained silent amazed no one since he was a
man of few words and no sentiment. Mary had nothing to say either, but I
appreciated her coming when this had nothing to do with her.

Jack cleared his throat and began to sing “In the Sweet By
and By.” It was a hymn we all knew from church and I was pleased at how
beautiful it sounded with the harmonies being sung. I wondered if the sound was
carried out to the boats and if so what they made of it. Would they think it
nice, or would it spur more rumors and legends of mermaids and sea monsters?
Mostly I hoped that Hannah heard us and was moved.

Father Driscoll, at my request, read then
from Job, chapter 11.
Job hadn’t known much wellbeing in life what with
being chosen to be God’s punching bag, but this passage had been read at my
grandmother’s funeral and I found it comforting in the way that Ecclesiastes
had not been. Also, I wanted something Hannah would
understand,
language she would know, but not any prayers from the religion of those who had
killed her. They had said those prayers when they took her life. I would not force
her to hear them again.

Father Driscoll moved on to Ben’s borrowed copy of the
Book of Common Prayer
. These words had
seen both paupers and kings into their graves. I thought they were the best
choice and Harris had agreed when we discussed it. Thankfully Father Driscoll was
protean enough to agree to the change.

“
M
an that is born of a woman hath but a short time to live, and
is full of misery.
He
cometh up and is cut down like a
flower; he
flieth
as it were a shadow, and never
continueth
in one stay. In the midst of life we
be
in death: of whom may we seek for succor but of thee, O
Lord, which for our sins justly art displeased. Yet, O Lord God most holy, O
Lord most mighty, O holy and most merciful savior, deliver us not into the
bitter pains of eternal death. Thou
knowest
, Lord,
the secrets of our hearts, shut not up thy merciful eyes to our prayers: but
spare us Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O holy and merciful savior, thou
most worthy judge eternal, suffer us not at our last hour for any pains of
death to fall from thee.

“Today we put to rest our sister, Hannah Wendover. We know
that we brought nothing into this
world,
neither may
we carry anything out of this world. The Lord
giveth
,
and the Lord
taketh
away. Even as it hath pleased the
Lord, so cometh things to pass: blessed
be
the name of
the Lord.”

I wondered how Hannah would have felt about this sentiment
when she died, for it seemed to me that it wasn’t the Lord that had taken her
life. However, the time for bitterness had surely passed and who can say but
what it was part of some Divine plan. Certainly I wasn’t qualified. I couldn’t
even explain to myself how such things as ghosts came to be.
And
why only sometimes.
The closest I can come to an explanation is that
when something bad happens it distorts the usual natural laws and that in some
cases it alters the patterns of reality. The energy that should have gone
somewhere else remains behind.

Or maybe it’s God’s will moving mysteriously, as it is so
often inclined to do. Maybe on the last day we will all finally know.

“
I am
the
resurrection and the life,
saith
the Lord: he that
believeth in me, yea, though he
were
dead, yet shall
he live. And whosoever
liveth
and believeth in me,
shall not die forever.
I
know
that my redeemer
liveth
, and that I shall rise out of
the earth in the last day, and shall be covered again with my skin, and shall
see God in my flesh: yea, and I myself shall behold him, not with other, but
with these same eyes.

“For as much as it hath pleased Almighty God of his great
mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear sister here departed: we
therefore commit her body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust
to dust, in sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life, through our
Lord Jesus Christ, who shall change our vile body that it may be like to his
glorious body, according to the mighty working, whereby he is able to subdue
all things to himself.”

Since we had no coffin to lower, Father Driscoll passed
right on to the next part.

“Let us pray. O merciful God, the Father of our Lord Jesus
Christ, who is the resurrection and the life, in whom whosoever believeth,
shall live though he die, and whosoever
liveth
and
believeth in him, shall not die eternally; who also taught us by his holy
Apostle Paul not to be sorry, as men without hope, for them that sleep in him:
We meekly beseech thee, O Father, to raise us from the death of sin unto the
life of righteousness, that when we shall depart this life, we may rest in him,
as our hope is this our brother doth; and that at the general resurrection in
the last day, we may be found acceptable in thy sight, and receive that
blessing which thy well-beloved Son shall then pronounce to all that love and
fear thee, saying, Come ye blessed children of my Father, receive the kingdom
prepared for you from the beginning of the world. Grant this we beseech thee, O
merciful Father, through Jesus Christ our mediator and redeemer. Amen.”

We all murmured our
Amens
, some more heartfelt than others.

Of course we had no body to throw earth upon, but I had
gathered some of the odd, triangular flat-stones which we set one by one over
her grave. And then I laid on it the one early narcissus that had pushed its
way out of the pot on the back porch.

Harris passed around a flask of whisky.

Kelvin was the first to leave the graveside.

Back inside the house we had coffee and sandwiches, fancy
ones without crusts that Brandy had insisted on making because that was what
was supposed to be served at funerals. I didn’t point out that customs were
different here. One shouldn’t criticize people for being thoughtful, though I
could see that the morsels of cucumber and watercress were being met with some
surprise when the little triangles were bitten into.

Mary and Everett did not linger after Father Driscoll headed
back to Goose Haven. But Harris, Bryson, and Ben were prepared to settle in for
some kind of wake and went so far as to build up a fire. Jack broke out a
bottle of what had to be good scotch, based on the admiring whistles, and which
they poured reverentially into the tumblers that Harris fetched from the pantry.

No one said anything, but I think they were keeping a vigil,
waiting for nightfall when we would know if we had succeeded in putting Hannah
out of her misery.

Correctly interpreting this gesture, and being from
Minnesota, I headed for the kitchen to see about putting together some kind of
hot dish for supper. Kelvin kept me company from his perch in the sunny window
where he stretched luxuriously.

Brandy joined me after she traded her pumps for ballet flats.
Tying a flour-sack towel around her waist, she began chopping an onion for the
soup. She looked wonderfully domestic. She had been very much more at ease
since the night she shared her ghost story. It had apparently been a terrible
burden to her. That she had been here at the right time to share her tale with
people who believed made me think again about Divine plans and synchronicity.

Suddenly she chuckled. When she spoke it was plain that she
had shared at least one of my thoughts.

“You look like a
nineteen-fifties
hausfrau
with your frilly apron and
those pearls.”

“I don’t know, to be really nineteen-fifties don’t we need
curlers and face cream?”

“Not this late in the day. A proper wife would have herself
and her house sparkling by noon.” She sniffed. “Another onion or is this enough?”

My eyes were watering. The onion had been gaining strength
through the winter.

“That should be enough for the soup.”

I handed her the celery and went back to dicing potatoes.

I found a secret compartment in the library desk the next
morning when looking for more of Great-grandpa’s lovely parchment. Again it was
Kelvin who showed me though I thought he was just playing with paperclips at
the back of the drawer. Inside the thin niche was a locket with a small painting.
I can’t prove that the miniature is of Hannah, but I am quite sure that it is.

Just as it was for my ancestors, I couldn’t bring myself to
wear the thing and I couldn’t throw it away. So back into the desk it went and
it waits there for someone else to find and deal with it.

Jack and Brandy were upstairs packing when there was a knock
at the door. I figured it was Bryson, who had offered to shuttle my guests back
to the mainland so they could catch their respective flights west and south.
The day was gray and drizzle fell steadily, but the water around the island was
wonderfully tranquil. The weathermen were predicting snow that afternoon, but
as yet we had no sign that a storm was actually going to bother us. Hannah’s
calm continued.

To my surprise and pleasure it wasn’t Bryson on the doorstep
but rather Harris Ladd huddled in his rain slicker.

“Come in,” I said. “Come to the library. I have a fire
going.”

“Thank you. I am afraid that Bryson has been called away.
There was a bad accident on the mainland, two trucks collided and then there
was a pileup. It’s all hands on deck for this one. I’ve been deputized to play ferryman
in his place.” Harris slipped off his coat and I hung it on a peg. There was a
kind of decorative trough underneath where it could drain onto the assorted
rain boots and umbrellas I keep by the door.

“Thank you for coming instead. But will Jack and Brandy be
able to make it to the airport if the highway is shut down?”

“
Ayuh
.
The accident was north.” Harris took off his gloves and spread his fingers out
above the flames in the grate. He sighed contentedly. Like Brandy, he also
seemed unburdened. Maybe he figured that if a ghost hadn’t driven me away,
nothing would.

“The cat likes coffee?” Harris asked, not sounding all that
surprised. I looked over to see Kelvin all but stuffing his head in my mug,
inhaling the fragrant steam.

“Apparently.”

I heard Jack come down the stairs, drop off luggage, and go
back up again. Brandy had brought several bags and Jack was being a gentleman.

“Will you be lonely with your friends gone?” Harris asked,
turning to toast his back. The subtext was really about whether I would be
frightened in the house alone.

“Not a bit. It’s been wonderful having them, but I think I’m
ready to have some time alone. It’s time I get decided about what I want to do—career-wise.
The vacation has been nice, but I am tired of being idle.”

“And there have been no disturbances?”

“Not a one. And Kelvin has been delightfully peaceful. No
sitting out on the grave like he used to do. It was unnerving when he would do
it and it was snowing.”

“That’s wonderful,” Harris said and plainly meant it.

“Hi, Harris,” Jack said, coming into the room. He had on a
leather jacket which probably wasn’t warm enough. “Are you taking us to the
mainland?”

“Yes. There was a bad car accident and Bryson and Everett
are away. Things are winding up but Bryson was afraid you would miss your
flight if you waited on him.”

“I think we are mostly gathered up.” He looked up at the
ceiling. On cue, Brandy
came
tapping down the stairs.

“Let me give you a hand with the luggage,” Harris said
politely.

I went to fetch a coat and hat. We would all be giving a
hand with the luggage or it would take several trips and they might still be
late.

It was not surprising when Ben joined us outside his cottage
and took the case Brandy was carrying. I was not resentful. Brandy is delicate
and I am not. I was also wearing sensible boots and not high-heeled shoes that
were in danger of turning my ankles as we minced our way down the wet path.

We were almost to the dock which is located on the low side
of the island between the two new houses. There is the tiniest bit of stony
beach at the waterline, but since it is more gravel than sand it is never used
by anyone. So when Ben exclaimed and pointed at the water, our first reaction
was to look to the boats. However it was immediately apparent in spite of the thickening
drizzle that there was nothing amiss at the pier and the eye quickly snagged on
the body-shaped mass wrapped in seaweed wedged between two boulders.

The body wrapped in seaweed. Not a seal, not a dolphin—a
body.

We dropped the bags on the path and hurried down to the
beach. Harris was in the lead and Brandy trailed behind, helped along by Ben. I
was only a step behind Harris and Jack was on my heels. It was raining in
earnest by then but we saw everything clearly when Harris knelt in the surf and
pulled the slimy tentacles away from the dead man’s face.