Chapter Six

"Charles, I need to talk to you!"

He was standing in front of the wardrobe mirror watching himself knot his tie but the urgency in Molly's voice, as she burst into the room, immediately drew his attention. One look at her face confirmed that something was very wrong.

"What's the matter?" He asked turning towards her.

Molly shut the bedroom door behind her, sat down on the bed and took a deep breath.

"Are you alright?" Charles asked.

She nodded, "Yes. It's not me or at least I don't think it is." She saw Charles frown. "What do you know about this house or the people who owned it before us?"

Charles was momentarily confused by the question. More than that; he was rooted to the spot by surprise. Could Molly have found out about his meeting with Gerald Harker, yesterday? He started to rack his brains to think how she might have discovered it when she said, "Things have been happening here. Things that I can't make sense of." She could tell that she had Charles' full attention. He was watching her intently and he said cautiously,

"What do you mean?"

She replied hesitantly, "First it was that cupboard in the spare bedroom where me and Bella found the locket hidden at the back. Two nights ago I found the cupboard door moving backwards and forwards when there was no breeze or reason for it to be moving on its own." She glanced up at him and saw that he was still watching her closely so she continued. "Then I was talking to a woman called Sally Phillpotts in the village. She used to be the Daily here for Mrs Harker and I know she was trying not to say anything but she mentioned noises in the house. She tried to cover it up by saying it was the boiler but I know damn well there's nothing wrong with that boiler and she refused to live-in here." She looked at Charles again. He was still listening intently, so she took a final breath and said quietly, "Worst of all, Will's just told me that when you found him talking last night he wasn't asleep." She paused and Charles said,

"Go on."

"He said he was talking to a sad lady who was sitting on his bed and wearing Bella's necklace." She waited for Charles' reaction.

The moment Molly had started talking about the cupboard in the spare room he had felt relief flood through him that she wasn't about to confront him over his clandestine meeting but he swiftly realised he was dealing with another problem altogether. In the end after she had finished speaking he said, "What are you trying to suggest?"

Molly looked him straight in the eye, "You know what I'm suggesting."

He sighed and shook his head which Molly interpreted as a gesture of disbelief, "That this house is haunted and Will's been having midnight chats with ghosts?" He eventually offered with just the hint of a smirk on his face.

Molly wished he hadn't sounded dismissive. "It's not a joke, Charles." She stared at him, "I'm telling you something's just not right here."

He crossed the room, sat down next to her on the end of the bed and put his arm around her shoulders pulling her closer to him.

"Look, Molly, I can see something's disturbing you, but old houses do creak and make noises and as for Will, well, he's just a small child. They make up stories or perhaps he really was dreaming and that's what he thought was happening. It's not really very likely that he was talking to a ghost, is it?"

Molly sighed, "I know it sounds far-fetched, but it's possible, isn't it?"

Charles shook his head, "Only if you believe in the existence of ghosts and I don't know anyone who's ever seen one."

"Apart from your own son!" Molly retorted.

Charles stood up and walked across to the window. Looking out, he could see Bella sitting quietly on a bench in the garden. William was close by and he could just about hear the sound of his chattering. Was it possible, he wondered? He'd never been given to flights of fancy about the supernatural or given credence to stories he'd heard recounted. He'd always assumed that some people either had very vivid imaginations or were easily suggestible. He would never have considered Molly to be that type of person. Before he could respond she said,

"I just realised that we don't know anything much about this house. All I've heard is that Mrs Harker lived here until she died six months ago and that her relatives were selling the place. Do you know anything else?"

Charles recalled Gerald Harker talking yesterday about visiting his uncle when he was a boy but beyond that he knew very little.

"Didn't you say you were going to see the solicitor today?" Molly continued, "Couldn't you ask him about it? Or perhaps I could come with you and ask him myself. I just need to know more, Charles."

Charles hesitated. He'd told Molly he had to go over some papers relating to the airfield lease with Richard but in truth he'd made up his mind to decline the business offer that Gerald Harker had put to him and was intending to ask Richard to relay the news to him. Yesterday he'd felt there was an undercurrent to the conversation that concerned him and he was worried that his refusal might not be an end to the matter. He didn't want Molly to be involved in any meetings like that. He was keen to keep her away and so nodded and said,

"Alright, just for you, I will ask him if he can give me any more information but don't expect to hear anything particularly illuminating."

She stood up, crossed the room to him and reaching up gave him a kiss.

"Thanks, Charles."

He reached out and gently placed his hand on the swell of her abdomen, "Perhaps, this one's just making you more tense than you realise." He said quietly.

She looked up at him, "Nice try, Charles, but just 'cos I'm having a baby don't mean I've lost my marbles. You should know me better than that."

Dr Sanderson washed his hands and wiped them dry on the towel the nurse had laid out for him before turning back to Molly who was settling herself down in the chair opposite him after the examination. "Well, everything seems to be going along well, Mrs James. The baby has a good strong heartbeat….once located. He or she is obviously very active." He smiled at her and she thought to herself, it was alright for him to joke. She'd been the one lying flat on her back for ten long minutes with the weight of the baby pressing down on her spine while he'd moved the wooden Pinard Horn around her abdomen trying to detect the heartbeat as well as palpating her abdomen. "Your blood pressure is very good as well. The only comment I'd make is that you do seem a little big for the dates. Perhaps, things are a little further advanced than you thought, maybe three or four weeks?" He looked questioningly at her and Molly shrugged.

"I don't think so, Dr Sanderson. Maybe it's just a big baby?" She suggested.

"Mmh, well that may be a possibility," He agreed, "But perhaps, to be on the safe side, I could see you again in say, three weeks and we'll see how things are then."

Molly nodded and stood up, "Thank you, doctor."

"Goodbye Mrs James."

She made another appointment with the receptionist for three weeks' time before leaving the surgery and stepping back onto Market Place. She had arranged to meet Charles at The Fleece opposite at midday but it was only half past eleven now as she had been able to see Dr Sanderson earlier than she had expected. She supposed she could browse around the shops for half an hour but she had already popped into the bookshop on her way to the doctor's surgery and purchased a copy of The House at Pooh Corner for Will before putting it away in her handbag. She decided instead to wander down Market Place to the offices of Murray & Parslow to meet Charles. She could wait for him in the reception area and it would save her sitting self-consciously in the lounge bar of The Fleece with the possibility of him being late.

Murray & Parslow's offices were located in an eighteenth century town house just beyond Market Place. Molly pushed open the shiny, black, regency style front door and turned to a room on her left which was the reception area. The smartly dressed Receptionist greeted her and she advised that she was waiting for her husband before settling herself down in one of the comfortable leather chairs that lined the walls of the room.

Richard Murray, accepted the news that Charles was declining Gerald Harker's business proposal with a degree of equanimity that Charles found surprising.

"It's a pity," Richard said, "but I daresay you have your reasons."

"Yes, "Charles replied, "One actually and it's fairly simple. I've learned that if something seems too good to be true, it usually is."

Richard looked taken aback, "Meaning what, exactly?"

"Surely, I don't have to spell this out to you?" Charles said pointedly.

Richard gave him a long look before answering, "No, you don't"

Charles sighed, "Look, whatever, this has been about, Richard, I have no intention of ever discussing it again. Is that fair enough?"

Richard nodded, "Yes. Understood."

Charles stood up to leave but remembered his promise to Molly. "There's, just one thing, Richard. Can you possibly tell me anything about the history of Greystones or Mrs Harker?"

When Charles came out of Richard's office he was surprised to see Molly sitting in the reception room. She smiled in welcome and stood up to greet him.

"I was early, so I thought I'd wait for you. That's alright isn't it?"

"Of course." He said, "Let's go and get some lunch."

They hadn't walked a dozen steps from the entrance before Molly remembered that she had left her gloves on the arm of the chair in the reception room. "I'll just fetch them and catch you up." She called turning back towards the office. As she opened the main front door she heard Richard Murray calling to the Receptionist, "I'll be out this afternoon. Can you call Gerald Harker for me and confirm tomorrow's appointment at eleven o'clock." The name struck her immediately and when she heard his office door shut she went back into the room and retrieved the white cotton gloves still lying across the arm of the chair. The Receptionist was already on the telephone and Molly waved the gloves at her, mouthing "I forgot them." The woman smiled and nodded. As Molly went out of the room she heard her saying hastily to someone on the other end of the telephone,

"Could you put me through to Mr Harker's extension, please?"

Molly caught up with Charles half-way along Market Place and he held out his arm to her. They walked arm in arm to The Fleece and went into the lounge bar to order some drinks and food. Sitting at a table in a quiet corner waiting for Charles to return with a lemonade and a pint of bitter, Molly wondered if there was any connection between old Mrs Harker and the man Richard Murray had named. She concluded that it was too much of a coincidence and resolved to say something to Charles. When he returned however, he pre-empted her question by saying conversationally,

"I asked Richard Murray about Greystones and Mrs Harker, by the way, but I didn't find out very much, I'm afraid."

"Oh!" He saw Molly's face fall, "What did he tell you, then?"

"Just that the house was bought in 1909 by a Maurice Harker who was married to a lady called Louisa Harker. That's about all he knows. Mrs Harker lived in the house until her death at the start of this year. He didn't know Mrs Harker personally he only handled the sale for her relatives, that is, for her nephew, I believe. That's all. I'm sorry if you were hoping for more, but I don't think he can help." He took a sip of his beer and glanced at Molly. He could see the wheels in her mind turning as she considered this information. At last she said,

"Well what about her relatives, the nephew who sold it. Couldn't we speak to him? He must know about it."

Charles had anticipated this and the last thing he wanted was to have any further contact with Gerald Harker. Richard's reaction had been better than anticipated and he had hoped that the matter was at an end.

"I really don't think that would be a good idea. Richard gave me the impression there was very little contact between them. Besides, it's really none of our business, is it? After all, we're going to look pretty stupid asking him if the house is haunted." He looked meaningfully at Molly and she could tell that as far as he was concerned the matter was closed.

She was disappointed by his attitude, not only this morning when she had voiced her concerns and he had appeared disbelieving, even amused by her suggestion but now he was being uncooperative and dismissive of what she considered a perfectly reasonable course of action. She noted that he had already changed the subject and was talking about a conversation he had had with Donald at the Blacksmith's Arms last night. She listened with only half an ear, making occasional comments but her mind was elsewhere thinking about Greystones and the Harkers.

As they left The Fleece, Charles remarked that he'd like to call in at the tailor's and in that moment Molly made a decision about an idea she had been toying with the whole time they had been sitting in The Fleece. "While you're there I'll go to the bookshop and get the book that Will wanted." She replied fully aware that he had no knowledge of her previous visit to the bookshop and she watched him stride off in the opposite direction making sure that he had turned the corner and was definitely out of sight before she hurried along Market Place back to the offices of Murray and Parslow. All the time he had been talking she had been distracted by the frustration of not being able to find out anything more that would help her settle her concerns. However, as they left The Fleece she made up her mind. She knew what Charles' had said but she couldn't help thinking that he was wrong. As she stood outside the solicitor's office she took a deep breath and told herself, that she was only going to tell a small white lie and that ultimately Charles would understand.

The Receptionist was sitting behind her desk and looked up as Molly entered the room. She smiled on recognising her and said politely, "Can I help you, Mrs James?"

Molly stepped forward, "I'm very sorry to disturb you but my husband asked if I could call in. He has another appointment but he's mislaid Mr Harker's telephone number and needs to contact him about their meeting tomorrow with Mr Murray. I wonder if you could be so good as to give me the number for him." She smiled brightly trying to look as innocent as she possibly could. The receptionist hesitated for no more than half a second before reaching for her address book and searching for the page lettered 'H'. She looked up and said, "Would he like the home or office number?"

Molly paused briefly before saying, "Home, I think."

The Receptionist looked down at the book and reached for a piece of paper to write the details upon. As she did so Molly glanced at the page and saw there was an address in the book. She craned her neck and reading upside down just about managed to make out the name 'Willow Dean House, Marshford. She glanced away in time to avoid the Receptionist's notice and accepted the note with Gerald Harker's telephone number with many thanks. As she left the offices and stepped out onto the pavement, however, she was overcome with a feeling of guilt. It was clear Charles hadn't wanted her to pursue Mrs Harker's relatives for information but in her mind he had given her no good reason not to talk to them. She could invent all manner of excuses for wanting information. She was sure it would be possible to ask a few reasonable questions without the risk of sounding like a lunatic. She didn't like going behind Charles' back but on this occasion she felt sure he was wrong and if she took care to be discreet he need not find out what she had done.

Although Nethercombe was situated only three quarters of a mile from Greystones, by the time she had covered half the distance Bella was beginning to regret the decision to walk there with William. Normally a reasonably good walker, he was in an uncooperative mood today, dawdling behind in the lane and deliberately scuffing his shoes despite Bella's attempts to cajole him and then scold him. "Mummy won't be very happy with you, Will, if she's got to polish your shoes again today." He looked at her and then surreptitiously scuffed the toe again checking to see whether she had noticed and if so, what her reaction would be. She sighed and pretended not to see. She wasn't feeling in a very good mood either. The events at Hester Rise last night had continued to play on her mind. She hadn't slept well and had woken from a disturbing dream in which she had been running through the woods and had slipped into the gorge. It wasn't surprising she supposed as that was exactly what had almost happened yesterday. Above all she was sorry about the way she had behaved afterwards. She hadn't been able to explain to Tom, just how terrified she had felt. She had never experienced a fear like that and her overriding instinct had been to leave that place as fast as she could. She hadn't given him any consideration. She cringed remembering their parting last night. She had been cold, almost unfriendly to him and it wasn't his fault. She knew that she liked him very much and realised that he liked her too. Her main reason for walking into Nethercombe today was to find him and apologise. She looked at William again.

"If you stop scuffing your shoes, we can play Pooh Sticks again on the bridge, alright!" He brightened immediately and transformed himself into a happy, small boy again and the last half mile of the walk passed by much more quickly.

True to her word, Bella spent a happy fifteen minutes on the bridge with William. This time it was a much closer contest and they eventually declared it a draw. When they had finished Bella said, "Shall we go to the shop, Will, and see if we can get a currant bun or something, I'm a bit peckish."

William jumped up and down calling, "Yes, please!"

They crossed the Green to Stimpson's General Store and with this being her true purpose for coming to Nethercombe, Bella began to feel nervous but she took a deep breath and pushed opened the shop door. The bell tinkled to announce their arrival and both Mr Stimpson and a customer in the shop turned to look as they entered. Mr Stimpson called, "Good afternoon, Miss. I'll be with you shortly." The customer smiled at Bella and William. He was a tall, slim man with greying hair in his early sixties and Bella noticed that he was wearing a white dog collar and was clearly the local vicar. They loitered at the back of the shop whilst Mr Stimpson continued talking to the reverend. As the conversation ended Mr Stimpson looked over at her and said in a friendly tone, "Would you by any chance be the young lady, who knows my Tom?"

Bella smiled and nodded, "Yes, I'm Bella Dawes."

Stimpson grinned at her, "I met your sister yesterday." He turned to the vicar and said, "Reverend Swinton, this young lady's the sister of Mrs James who's just moved into Greystones."

"How do you do?" Reverend Swinton said politely, "And welcome to Nethercombe. Will we be seeing you on Sunday?"

Bella hesitated. The Dawes family were not strong church-goers tending to confine their appearances to the main events in life: christenings, weddings and funerals. "I'm not sure, Vicar."

He saw her awkwardness and said in a kindly voice, "It's no matter. Perhaps, however, we'll see you all at the Church Fete on Saturday. Here on the Green?"

"Oh, yes, I expect so." Bella said having no idea of anyone's plans.

"You'll not want to miss it." Mr Stimpson cut in, "It's one of the highlights of the social calendar in Nethercombe."

Reverend Swinton laughed, "Quite so, Mr Stimpson." He looked at Bella, "Well, I hope to have the pleasure of seeing everyone on Saturday. It was nice to meet you, Miss Dawes." He nodded and left the shop.

Bella stepped forward grinning sheepishly. "Oh dear, I don't know what Molly'll say when she hears I've volunteered us all for the Church Fete."

Stimpson laughed, "You should all come, it's a good afternoon and you'll get a chance to meet the whole village in one go. Now, how can I help you, young lady?"

Bella looked down at William, "I've got a hungry young man here who'd love a currant bun if you've got any and I would too." She grinned down at William as Mr Stimpson made his way around the counter to the bakery section and put two currant buns in a brown paper bag. As Bella opened her purse to pay she said casually,

"Is Tom around?"

Stimpson wasn't fooled, he gave her a long, knowing look. "Well, as a matter of fact, he isn't. It's his day off and he got up at the crack of dawn and disappeared out for the day. He said he'd be back by teatime." Bella was clearly disappointed. Her face fell a little and she said quietly,

"Oh, I see. Thanks for letting me know."

Stimpson smiled, "I'll tell him you were looking for him and if you come to the Church Fete, you'll be sure to find him. He's running the hoopla stall!"

When Charles and Molly arrived back at Greystones, they found the house empty. Bella had left a note on the kitchen table saying that she and William had gone for a walk to Nethercombe. Charles was expected back at the airfield as he had pupils booked for flying instruction that afternoon. After a quick ten minute stop to change into his flying suit he drove away again and Molly was left alone in the house. She had been quiet on the drive back to Greystones and Charles had asked her if she was feeling alright, but she had said she was just tired. In truth, she had spent the time thinking of what to say if she phoned Mr Harker. She couldn't come straight out and ask him if the house was haunted. Charles was right about that; she would sound ridiculous. However, if she asked some general questions about the history of the house he might reveal something that would shed light on what she believed was happening and particularly who the 'sad lady' was. She took the number out of her handbag and stared at it for half a minute willing herself to pluck up enough courage to call. She took a deep breath and dialled the number.

The telephone rang eight times before it was answered. Molly was on the point of putting down the receiver when a well-spoken lady answered.

"Marshford 362"

In all of Molly's imagined conversations a woman had never featured. She almost kicked herself, of course, it was much more likely that Mr Harker's wife would answer at this time of day.

"Is that Mrs Harker?" She asked tentatively.

"Yes. To whom am I speaking, please?" Mrs Harker responded.

"You don't know me, Mrs Harker. My name is Molly James. My husband bought Greystones."

"Yes, of course. I thought your name sounded familiar. How may I help you, Mrs James."

Molly took a deep breath, "I was interested in the history of the house and I wondered if you could tell me a little bit about the place? Perhaps about Mrs Harker and her husband too?" There was silence at the end of the line and Molly said, "Are you there, Mrs Harker?"

She heard a muffled crackling sound as if the receiver was being passed to someone else and then a man speaking in a clipped upper-class voice came onto the line.

"I don't know how you obtained this number, Mrs James, but I must ask that you don't call again. Thank you. Goodbye."

"I only…." Molly began but the receiver had already been replaced and the line had gone dead.