Voices in a Haunted Room

On that afternoon I was in the sewing room with my mother and Molly Blackett going through materials and discussing clothes for the babies when one of the servants came in and said: “There is a lady and gentleman downstairs, Madam. Friends of the master, they say. I’ve taken them to the hall and they are waiting there.”

“I’ll come down,” said my mother.

I went with her. Standing in the hall was a rather tall fair-haired man of about forty, and the lady with him appeared to be a few years younger. When he saw my mother the man came towards her, holding out his hands.

“My dear Mrs. Frenshaw. I would have known you from Dickon’s description. How are you? I am James Cardew and this is my wife, Emma. I wonder if he has ever mentioned me to you.”

“No,” said my mother, “I don’t think he has.”

“I come from the North. Dickon has always said I must call and see him at Eversleigh if ever I was in the neighbourhood, and he would be most offended if I did not. I wonder if he is at home?”

“No, I’m afraid not. He is in London.”

The man raised his eyebrows in exasperation. “What bad luck! Of all the times he has insisted I call. And now I find that he is away.”

“He may be back tomorrow,” said my mother. “But let me introduce you to my daughter.”

He had taken my hand and was looking at me intently. “This is another Mrs. Frenshaw.

Claudine, is it?”

I laughed. “You seem to know a good deal about us.”

“Dickon has talked of you. This is my wife, Emma.”

She was attractive, with dark lively eyes.

My mother said: “Well, it is a great pity that my husband is not at home. You will need some refreshment. Do come into our little winter parlour and I will have something brought to us. Have you eaten yet?”

“We had a meal some miles back,” said James Cardew. “A little wine would be welcome ... to slake the thirst.”

“Come along then. Claudine, will you ask them to send something to the winter parlour,”

said my mother.

I went away to do her bidding and then returned to the visitors. They were sitting down and saying what a wonderful old house Eversleigh was. They felt they knew it well, Dickon had talked so much about it.

“Have you seen him recently?” asked my mother.

“Well, it must have been a year ago. I happened to be in London for a brief spell.”

“I expect I was with him,” said my mother. “I usually am, but not so much now since my baby was born.”

“Unfortunately we didn’t meet then. Tell me, is Dickon well?”

“Very well, thank you.”

“Have you ever known Dickon otherwise?”

“He does enjoy good health.”

“He is the most vital man I have ever known,” said James Cardew.

My mother looked pleased, and as the wine arrived then, she poured it out for our guests.

“Delicious,” said Emma Cardew. “I must admit to being thirsty. It is thirsty travelling.”

”Did you say Dickon will be back tomorrow?” asked her husband.

“We can never be certain,” said my mother. “But I do expect him. Something may turn up to keep him though.”

“Yes, yes. We live in strange times. You are well aware of that if anyone is, Mrs. Frenshaw.”

“I see Dickon has been talking freely about us.”

“He is a very brave man, Mrs. Frenshaw.”

“Amen to that,” said my mother fervently.

“I was delighted to hear about the babies,” put in Emma.

“Oh, you are very up-to-date with our news.”

“As a matter of fact,” explained Emma, “I was talking to someone at the inn. It is amazing how much people know about their neighbours. And don’t they love to pass on information! We mentioned we were looking for Eversleigh, and the babies were mentioned. Two of them in fact. That seemed something to talk about. Oh dear, I do hope we are not going to miss Dickon.”

“Are you staying at the inn?”

“As a matter of fact we did ask, but they hadn’t a room for us.”

“Had they not? At this time of the year!”

“Well, they had something to offer. Emma declined it.”

“I’m a bit particular,” explained Emma. “It was more or less a cupboard that they offered us.”

“I know the accommodation is not very good,” said my mother, “but there is not very much about here.”

“Never mind. We’ll go on to the next town. Our horses are in your stables. Your grooms dashed out and took them. I daresay they’ll feed and water them. Poor things, they have travelled fairly far.”

“You must stay for dinner,” said my mother.

“Oh, no, no. Not if Dickon isn’t here.”

“He would want you to.”

“I think,” said Emma slowly, “we ought to be making our way. We have to find somewhere to sleep for the night.”

My mother said warmly: “Of course we can give you a bed.”

Emma and James spoke simultaneously. “Oh, what a relief!” said Emma.

“We couldn’t possibly encroach on your hospitality,” said James.

“Nonsense,” replied my mother. “We have plenty of room. There is no one staying here at the moment. Dickon would be put out if we let you go. Besides, he will probably be back tomorrow. You can catch him if you don’t leave too early.”

They were beaming their satisfaction.

“Will you go and see about it right away, Claudine?” asked my mother.