Voices in a Haunted Room

What followed was terrible. We were all shattered. She had been such a gentle, pleasant girl, so pretty too. It was tragic to realize that she was dead. I kept thinking of her smiling in her quiet way with Harry Farringdon.

She must really have cared for him. The news of his engagement would have been brought to her. Mary Lee would have talked to the servants of Eversleigh and they would have carried the news to those of Grasslands.

What a cruel fate! She must have thought he was serious in his affections for her; she had clearly loved him, and when he became engaged to someone else, found life unbearable.

I wondered what was happening at Grasslands. I wondered whether to go over and see, but was unsure. Evie had met Harry Farringdon under our roof. It was no fault of ours, but Mrs. Trent would be distracted. She would blame us perhaps. There were startling revelations to come.

Evie Mather was pregnant and had been so for the last three months.

This was worse than ever. Poor girl! Why had she not talked to someone? My mother would have done anything to help her and so would I. David certainly would ... even Dickon. He was always lenient with that sort of predicament.

But she had kept it to herself. I could imagine the devastating effect this was going to have on that household.

People spoke of it in hushed whispers. In the servants’ hall I was sure they spoke of nothing else.

I felt I must go and see Mrs. Trent because there was a special sort of relationship between us since she had told me that Evie was connected with our family, as Richard Mather had been truly Dickon’s son.

It was with great trepidation that I called.

I had not told David or my mother that I was going, for I felt sure they would try to dissuade me. Indeed I should have needed little dissuasion, for I was very unsure whether I should be welcome.

The curtains were all drawn across the windows. The door was opened by a servant who took me into a little room which led from the hall. She said she would tell Mrs. Trent that I had come.

After a while Dolly came in. Her face was distorted by grief and her eyes seemed more awry than ever.

“Oh, Dolly,” I said, “I’m so terribly sorry. This is heartbreaking.”

Her lips quivered. “She’s gone. Our Evie ... gone forever. I shall never see her again.”

“Oh Dolly.” I was crying with her.

“There wasn’t any need,” said Dolly. “She would have been all right.”

“We would have taken care of her,” I said.

“I would have taken care of her ... and the little baby as well.”

I nodded. “How is your grandmother taking it?”

“She doesn’t eat. She doesn’t sleep. She thought the world of Evie.”

“I know. I would have come. My mother would have come, but we were not sure whether she would wish to see us ... just yet.”

“Yes, she wants to see you.”

“I would like to comfort her. I wish I knew how.”

“There’s no comfort,” said Dolly, “or not much. But she wants to see you.”

“Is she in bed?”

“She’s up there. She doesn’t seem to know where she is.”

“Shall I go up?”

“Yes. I’ll take you.”

Mrs. Trent came out of her bedroom and we went into a small dressing room. There were two chairs in it and we sat down. Dolly stood by the door. Mrs. Trent was wearing a grey dressing gown which she must have slipped over her nightdress. Her face was blotched with weeping and her eyes swollen. She did not look like the perky Mrs. Trent we had known.

I took both her hands in mine and on impulse kissed her cheek.

“Oh, Mrs. Trent, I am so sorry. We are all so distressed.”

She nodded, too emotional to speak.

“If only we could have known ... we could have done something,” I said.

“I’d like to murder him,” she muttered, coming to life. “I’d take him to that river and I’d hold his head down and not let him go until he was dead ... as she is.”

“I understand how you feel.”

“She couldn’t face it, you see. She couldn’t face me. I shouldn’t have made her feel like that. She ought to have been able to come to me in trouble.”

“You mustn’t say that, Mrs. Trent. I know you would always have done anything for her.”

“I would and all ... but she knew how I’d set my heart on her doing well. I’ve gone wrong somewhere.”

“You always did your best, Mrs. Trent. None could say other than that. You must not blame yourself.”

“I blame him,” she said fiercely. “The dirty swine! He deceived her, he did ...

promised he’d marry her and when this happens it’s goodbye and he goes off to marry a real lady. She was a real lady, my Evie was.”

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Trent.”

She clenched her hands together and I knew she was imagining them round the throat of Harry Farringdon.

“And now there’s this Reverend gentleman ... the vicar. He won’t take my Evie. He says the likes of her can’t be buried among decent folks.”

“No, Mrs. Trent!”

“Yes. He says suicides can’t be buried in consecrated ground. They will put her at the crossroads. They’ll give her the suicide’s grave. I just can’t bear that ... not for my little Evie.”

“Something will have to be done about that.”

She looked at me with hope in her eyes.