September, 1913
Daisy, white as a sheet, stumbled into the servants' hall and placed the tea tray on the table. Anna looked up from her sewing as the rattle of teacups broke her concentration.
"Daisy? Whatever's the matter?"
"I…I saw him."
"Saw who?"
"The Turkish gentleman. He was in the pantry."
"Now Daisy, Mr. Pamuk passed away months ago. How could he be in the pantry? And why would he want to be?"
"It…it was his ghost."
"You're 15 now, Daisy. I thought you'd have realized by now that ghosts don't exist."
"Sure they do." Thomas, always eager to stir the pot, chimed in.
"No, they don't." Anna glared at him.
"And what makes you so sure? It just so happens that I've been visited by many ghosts, including my brother, and the previous butler of this very castle."
Daisy's eyes were as wide as saucers now.
"What did they want?" Her voice trembled.
Thomas took a second to release a puff of smoke from his mouth. "Well, my brother came to haunt me because he was angry that I stole his smokes after he died. But the butler, well…he came for my soul."
Across the table, Mr. Bates peered over the edge of his newspaper. "Thomas, shut…up." The way he dragged out the words and the venom in his tone was enough to tell Thomas that he meant business. His eyes and voice softened as he turned to look at Daisy. "Daisy, ghosts don't exist. They're merely products of an overactive imagination. Please don't let Thomas frighten you so."
The look in his eyes was so sincere that the color returned to Daisy's face, and although she wasn't entirely convinced that she hadn't seen Mr. Pamuk's ghost in the pantry, his words put her enough at ease that she picked up the tea tray and bravely walked back into the kitchen.
As she approached the kitchen island she set the tray down, and was surprised by Mrs. Patmore, who was clutching her chest, coming from the direction of the pantry.
"Mrs. Patmore, what is it?" Daisy feared the old woman was having a heart attack.
"I just had the fright of me life. I think I saw a ghost!"