Voices in a Haunted Room

“I’ll go and see the Reverend Manning. Or my husband will. Don’t worry about that, Mrs. Trent. Evie is going to be buried properly. There must be no doubt about that.”

“It’s kind of you ... and it’s her due. You know who she is. It’s different I suppose with the gentry. No one would think of putting them anywhere but in a proper grave.”

I was glad that there was something I could do, something which would relieve her, even though nothing could ever bring Evie back. I said: “I will go along to the vicarage now and see him. Don’t worry, Mrs. Trent. I am sure it will be all right.”

“Thank you,” she said; and there was that glint of determination in her eyes which I had noticed before her grief had descended upon her and made her a pathetic shadow of what she had been. “It’s her due,” she said with a certain firmness.

Dolly conducted me to the door.

“Goodbye,” I said. “I will do everything I can.”

I went straight to the vicarage. It was not as easy as I had thought it would be.

The Reverend Richard Manning was the kind of man I disliked on sight. He was pompous, self-righteous, and I was sure completely lacking in compassion and imagination.

We saw little of him for the living did not belong to Eversleigh. The family had always had its own chapel and although nowadays we did not have a priest living in the house, there was one who had a small place on the estate and whose duty it was to officiate when needed. He came every morning to conduct prayers for the household.

Therefore the family had no jurisdiction over the Reverend Richard Manning.

I told him that I was concerned about the burial of Evie Mather.

“The suicide,” he said, and I immediately felt a sense of outrage at the cold and precise tone of his voice, and to hear Evie spoken of in that way.

“Her grandmother is very distressed because you are denying her normal burial.”

“I have said that according to the laws of the Church she cannot be buried in consecrated ground.”

“Why not?”

He looked surprised. “Because she has offended against the laws of God. She has committed the sin of inflicting death on a human being.”

“Herself,” I said.

“It is a sin in the eyes of the Church.”

“So everyone who is buried hi your churchyard is quite beyond reproach?”

“There are no suicides buried there.”

“There must be greater sins than finding one’s life so intolerable that one takes it.”

”It is a sin against God’s laws,” he said complacently.

“I do want you to understand that this is a terrible blow to her family. Could you not waive the laws for once and give her the burial they want for her? It means such a lot to them.”

“You cannot ask me to break the holy laws of God.”

“Is this a holy law? Is it God’s will to inflict greater pain on people who have already suffered infinitely?”

“You miss the point, Mrs. Frenshaw.”

“On the contrary, I think you do that. But please, will you do this for the sake of humanity ... for pity’s sake ...”

“You cannot be asking me to go against the rule of the Church?”

“If these are the laws of the Church, then I will say they are cruel ... unkind ... uncaring ... and yes, wicked. And I want nothing to do with them.”

“You are coming near to blasphemy, Mrs. Frenshaw.”

“I will speak to my father-in-law.”

“I am not responsible to Eversleigh,” he said. “This living never has been. This is a matter between me and my conscience.”

“Then your conscience, if it has any humanity in it, should give you a very uneasy time.”

“Mrs. Frenshaw, you must leave now. I have nothing more to say.”

“But I shall have a great deal to say.”

I rode home in a fury. My mother was astonished to see me in such a state.

I told her what had happened.

“Oh no!” she cried. “Not this as well.”

“Poor Mrs. Trent ... she cares so much about this.”

“I understand that,” said my mother.

“What can we do? The man is adamant.”

“Unfortunately we have no power over him.”

“I know. He made that clear. But something has to be done. I am determined on that.”

I chose a moment when I knew that Dickon would be alone. My stepfather had always maintained a mild friendship with me; I fancied that in his heart he harboured a certain resentment because he was not my father, and he had loved my mother even when she was married to my father.

“Claudine,” he said now. “This is an unexpected honour.”

“I want you to do something,” I said.

”Well, if it is in my power to serve a beautiful young lady, rest assured that it shall be done. What do you want?”

“I want Evie Mather to be buried in the normal way.”

“Is that old idiot Manning making a fuss?”

“Exactly.”

“He would. I’m sorry, Claudine, there’s nothing I can do. I can’t threaten him with the loss of his living because the living isn’t mine to bestow.”

“Nevertheless you could do something.”

He shook his head. “No. If he says no ... then it has to be so. It’s in his power to decide.”

“The poor woman is distraught.”

“It’s a terrible business. What a foolish girl! Girls have had babies before.”

“Harry Farringdon has behaved badly.”