Pluckley Village, 2016
Arthur didn't know exactly why he was at the local library, sorting through all the familial records that he could access. Correction- he didn't know what he was to find. All he knew was that there had been several crazy anomalies in the past few weeks, throwing everything into a muddle. Arthur was trying to pin point the cause, and so far, despite his theories and clues, he had come up empty handed.
Why did Matthew only gain the ability to see ghosts recently? Why could Alfred see some ghosts but not others? Why was the coachman on Maltman's Hill suddenly so restless and uncontrollable? Did Ludwig Beilschmidt, one of the new students at Arthur's school, have any connection to Gilbert Beilschmidt, the notorious highwayman that had been dead for centuries?
These were only some of the questions floating around in the teen's mind as he tried and failed to organise his thoughts and experiments. This had brought him to the records hall in library, and now he was trying to find the Beilschmidt family tree on one of the helpful library computers.
Finally, he saw the name Beilschmidt, so Arthur clicked on it eagerly. Had he finally found something that would answer some of problems? Arthur had no choice but to disregard any of the generations before Gilbert's time, they probably wouldn't be much use. The helpful names would be Gilbert's parents, cousins, siblings and then his nieces and or nephews.
Geomar Beilschmidt and Anna Weber were the names above one Gilbert Beilschmidt.
Arthur couldn't suppress a smile. He was starting to feel good about the whole task. Eagerly, he looked around for more information. It appeared that Alton Beilschmidt had been Gilbert's younger brother and he had married Monika Klein. That was important, if Alton and Monika had had children, they could possibly be the ancestors of the intimidating German that now shared Arthur's class.
Just as Arthur was about to scroll down to discover whether Sofia Beilschmidt or Jonas Beilschmidt had continued the family line, another name caught his eye. Arthur's eyes widened with shock- now that made sense.
When Matthew had received a text from Arthur asking him to investigate his family, he had been sceptical- what did his parents have to do with the ghosts of Pluckley Village? Everything, Arthur had explained his plan patiently, leaving Matthew confident in what he needed to do.
"Dad," Matthew approached his father after dinner, while Richard Jones was tidying up the table.
Richard didn't look up, but made a motion with his hand for Matthew to continue.
"I was wondering about our family," Matthew realised how terribly that could be interpreted and hurried to redeem himself. "I mean, our ancestors and stuff."
"You should probably talk to your mother about that Matthew," Richard replied. "If you want to know about your predecessors, I can't really help you. We're not- not…"
"No, I mean you and Alfred." Matthew insisted, he flushed when he realised what his dad had been trying to hint towards. "I'm just curious, okay Dad?"
Richard breathed a sigh of relief. "Right! We should have some maps up in my study, if you want to look at them. I'll fetch them for you once I've finished tidying."
"Thanks Dad!" Matthew made himself comfortable on the lounge chair to wait. He sent a quick message to Arthur- I'm able to look at them! – and started reading one of his mother's magazines, the ones that he prided himself on being able to understand. Neither Alfred or Richard had ever taken the time to learn French but Matthew had absorbed every foreign word he had ever heard his mother utter- including the naughty ones.
Before he knew it, Richard had set down long rolls of paper on the coffee table. "I don't understand how you can read that stuff," he remarked, "It makes no sense!"
"That's because you don't speak French, Dad." Matthew replied, putting the magazine back where it came from. "Are they…?"
Richard nodded. "Yep! I also brought down your mother's, just in case. I mean, you may as well look at it as well while you're in the mood."
"Thanks Dad!" Matthew answered honestly. "I will."
"I'm glad you like this kind of stuff, Matthew." Richard commented. "It's always great to know where you came from. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
"Yeah, I will." Matthew was already unwinding the first scroll, eager to start. He barely noticed when Richard left to go and help Alfred with some of his English homework.
Arthur had wanted to find out whether Alfred was of any relation to Carlos. It had seemed like an odd question; however, Arthur had hinted that it might have something to do with why Alfred could see Carlos while Gilbert remained invisible. Starting from the bottom and moving upwards, it became clear that all children after Alfred's father had been added in in black pen. It seemed that the original had been made by Richard when he was in his twenties, before he met the woman who had Alfred.
Along the way, Matthew noted that the Jones were related to the Kirkland's, second cousins or something. It wasn't unexpected, both families claimed to have lived in Pluckley Village for many generations. That was all that interested Matthew until he reached the section of the mid 1900's. Arthur's suspicion had been correct- Carlos was the brother of a woman who had married into the Jones' family!
Grabbing his phone, Matthew once again texted his friend. Success! Carlos is Alfred's great-great-something Uncle! Is that what you wanted to know?
The reply was instantaneous. Perfect. Thanks Matthew.
No problem. Matthew waited a few minutes to see whether he would be gifted with another reply, but it seemed like there would be no answer this time. He unrolled the Williams scroll of paper, and, unlike last time, started from the top. His side of the family were originally nobles in France, it seemed. At some point, Marianne and her sister Roxane had both moved out of the country- Marianne went to Canada, and Roxane made a life for herself in the USA.
From what Matthew knew, he could fill in the gaps of how they all came to live in England. Marianne had met Richard while visiting Roxane in the States, and then as their romance progressed, she followed him back to his home town, Pluckley Village. He was certain there was more too it, but Matthew was content with the information he knew. But wait- there was a third sister, a Chloe Bonnefoy… Matthew almost laughed. Could Francis Bonnefoy be his cousin?
"Why yes, yes he is." Marianne confirmed when he asked her. "Didn't you know, amoureux?"
Matthew shook his head. "No, I didn't."
Marianne laughed. "Well there you go. You have a lot of family in this little town Matthew."
"Why Artie?" Gilbert asked curiously as he accompanied Matthew and Arthur to school. "You always tell me to avoid that place."
"I just need you for a quick experiment before our lessons start, it will only take a few minutes." Arthur answered.
Gilbert pouted. "Figures. A whole day would have been too good to be true."
Matthew didn't have anything to say. Gilbert was the only thing making noise along the pathway, and without a doubt if Arthur hadn't decided to allow Gilbert to accompany them, the whole walk to school would have been in complete silence. The occasional cold gust of wind ruffled the Canadian's hair, making him shiver, and wish he wore more layers. A single glance at his companions showed that he was the only one affected by the cold. Matthew was used to colder weather than most however today seemed different. Perhaps it was the presence of Gilbert? Did a room's temperature really drop when a ghost was inside? He would have to ask Arthur. Arthur knew more about this type of thing.
Their companionable walk ended when Arthur grabbed Gilbert by the coat and pulled him behind a corner, just before they entered the sight of their school. Matthew didn't notice at first, and panicked momentarily as he tried to find where his friends had disappeared to. He found them quickly, but he was still filled with worried adrenaline. Alfred often told Matthew that he was a massive worrywart, which sadly, was quite accurate.
"So, Gilbert," Arthur was saying quietly to the highwayman. "I just want to introduce you to someone at my school. Nothing more, I just want to see what his reaction is."
Matthew had no choice but to assume that this person was possibly like him, able to see ghosts.
Arthur answered Matthew's question shortly after. "He may be able to see you, Gilbert, and I want to know whether he is like Matthew or Alfred."
Matthew didn't quite know what to think of that, but he suspected it had to do with how Alfred could only see Carlos. "Who is it Arthur? Francis?"
"That frog?"
Arthur's attention returned to Matthew, and with a sinking feeling the Canadian realised that his friend had probably temporarily forgotten that he was also there.
"Don't be silly," Arthur laughed, but Matthew didn't miss his clenched fists. "That fool never even sees what's right under his nose!"
"Okay, not Francis then." Matthew replied, unfazed.
Arthur faced Gilbert again. "This person gets to school a lot earlier than the rest of us, so he should be there. It will give us the opportunity to speak with him before the majority of the school gets there. I have to try and keep some shreds of my reputation."
Matthew tactfully decided not to mention the fact that by the time Arthur was fourteen, everyone thought he was out of his mind. There comes a certain age when believing in invisible flying creatures becomes the sign of mental instability… at least, Matthew was ashamed to admit, that's what he used to think. Even though he had admired Arthur's calm demeanour and intelligence, Matthew had found him unapproachable due to some of his beliefs. That uneasiness had still not completely disappeared, but the Canadian felt he was starting to understand and appreciate Arthur more every day.
The trio had just entered the school gates when they were approached by the flamboyant Frenchman. Arthur had clearly not expected to run into his rival, and was obviously disgruntled that his seemingly flawless plan had been disturbed by the mere presence of Francis Bonnefoy.
Matthew and Arthur locked eyes from either side of Gilbert. Neither were entirely sure what to do. Matthew shrugged, because he didn't know exactly what Arthur wanted Gilbert to do, the Canadian would have to take one for the team and occupy Francis's attention until Arthur had finished embarrassing himself through some sort of social experiment. Matthew wasn't entirely put out, ever since he had learnt that Francis was in fact his cousin he had wanted to have a serious conversation with the flirty blond.
Making what was hopefully a directive hand gesture behind his back, Matthew turned to completely face Francis. "Francis, how have you been…?"
Arthur admired Matthew's self-sacrifice, and was more grateful than he would have liked to admit. Arthur knew for a fact that if he had been the one to talk to Francis so the ghost and Matthew could carry out his experiment by themselves, and if you looked at Gilbert's track record for following rules, and Matthew's original lack of understanding of what the test entailed, the pair were highly unlikely to produce reliable results. And of course, he would probably be arrested by police at the end of it all for murder.
Arthur made the mental note to buy Matthew some of that maple syrup he liked to repay him for his noble efforts. Yes, he was that thankful to be spared from that French frog's obnoxious laughter… which made Arthur think.
"You and Birdie were acting like that was a life or death situation. Kesesesese!" Gilbert laughed at his own joke.
"At least it isn't that dreadful ohonhonhon," Arthur reasoned, sarcastically replicating Francis's unique laugh. He put no real effort into it, so the end result was some weird cross between a cough and a chuckle.
"Huh?"
Realising he had spoken aloud, Arthur absentmindedly pat the dark sleeve of Gilbert's long coat as he scanned the grounds for that tell-tale slicked back hair. "It's nothing."
"Artie," Gilbert said in all seriousness. "Who exactly are we looking for?"
"He's a class mate of mine, he only transferred to our school this year." Arthur explained.
Sure enough, across the playground, sitting at a bench mulling over a stack of papers, wearing simple reading glasses was none other than Ludwig Beilschmidt.
"Oh, there he is. Come on, this way." Arthur paused only to realise that his ghostly companion had not accompanied him, but was frozen to his spot.
Gilbert's crimson eyes were wide with shock, and he looked paler- if that was even possible. He uttered one word, a word so quiet that Arthur had to both learn closer and strain his ears to be able to understand.
"Alton."
Cora
Merry Christmas everyone! I hope Santa found everyone and that you all are enjoying your holidays (if you are on holidays, that is.) I'm so sorry for terribly delayed update, a month really isn't any where near my weekly updating goal! However, I'm sure you all can understand when I say that December is always a crazily busy month. I should be back into my weekly updating schedule soon, and if I can organised myself well enough, that may turn into a two chapters a week while I'm not as busy. This is just something I would like to do, but whether it actually happens, we'll see. I will definitely have weekly updates though!
Thank you to Awesome Maple Leaves, miss myisteri and pieluvr for following my story! I really am thankful. Thank you also to Awesome Maple Leaves and Jace Wilt for reviewing. Sorry I couldn't get this chapter out sooner! I hope it was worth the wait!
I'm not entirely confident in how this chapter worked out, but I haven't been writing as much recently so it's possible that there are things that are wrong and/or don't make sense. If there are, please let me know so I can correct any mistakes.
