Chapter Nine

A Waking Dream

Shafts of morning sunlight crept slowly into Carolyn's bedroom. Finding the narrow chinks in the linen curtaining, the light painted thin golden streaks across the dressing table mirror.

The alarm clock beside the bed suddenly shrilled, marking the hour of half past six. Carolyn rolled over and extended one arm out of the covers to switch it off.

"Daniel…" she groaned, rolling back to settle down and hug her pillow closer. "Please don't leave me yet. It's still early…" She closed her eyes with a sigh, trying to recapture her delicious dream.

Then she froze, frowning. Rolling back over she stared at the clock and gasped. She needed to rise and get on with her day. It was a school day and she knew the children would be very keen to start on their plans for the Captain's party as soon as they got home. And she didn't want to disappoint them.

As she picked up her dressing gown from the foot of her bed and pulled it on, she tried to recapture the essence of her dream. She was aware the Captain had figured in it prominently once more, hence her waking plea for him not to leave her.

"Foolishness…" Her cheeks heated as she jerked the belt tight around her waist. "It gets you nowhere but frustrated."

But she couldn't stop herself from putting her fingers to her face. In her dream, he'd touched her cheek and then ran his finger down her skin to her lips. She remembered that. 'Or I think I did…'

"Maybe I simply imagined it from an excess of wanting…" she whispered as she left the room and tried to put the disturbing and impossible dream firmly behind her. There was no point in dwelling on what could a wanting that never be changed for the better.

She was in too much of a hurry to notice that the manuscript on the desk had been moved. It was only after the door had closed behind her that an unseen hand moved it back into its original position and the blank sheet of paper floated across the desk to cover the work once more.

※※※※※

Because their time together would be tight under the Captain's new rules, Carolyn drove to town and collected the children early from school. As they climbed into the car, Candy leaned forward over the seat and held out a note. "The teacher says we're putting on a play next month. She says we need to make our own costumes. Here's what we're gonna need."

"Yeah, we gotta dress up," Jonathan complained. "I don't want to. I'll look silly."

"No, you won't and we'll find the time to make everything somewhere," Carolyn promised with a small sigh. "Martha can help us with all of that. Maybe we can distract the Captain with it."

As they drove home, they decided to hold their first conference to plan the surprise party. They met up in the main bedroom and set Scruffy on watch for any potential intrusion.

Carolyn had taken the time to read and absorb the Captain's rules. She was determined to follow them to the letter. For the use of her bedroom, he'd confined himself to the hours of four and six P.M. So, she was sure they would be safe until then.

"All right, here we are…" She searched her cluttered desk for a notepad and pen to take any notes. "Now come on and let's sit down and make a list of the things we'll need for the Captain's surprise party."

She sat in the large leather chair beside the gas fire and the children perched on the arms. Scruffy stationed himself, lying down on guard on the footstool.

"Now, what do we need?" Carolyn asked. "I can telephone our order for party supplies to Mr Hammond down at the general store. He'll put aside the non-perishables for us to pick up when we're next in town. Anything else, we'll order closer to the date of the Captain's birthday."

"Well, we're going to need a birthday cake!" Jonathan announced.

"And we'd better make it a chocolate one!" Candy added.

"And we'll need lots of jellybeans!" Jonathan replied.

"And popcorn too," Candy asserted.

"And some candy apples!" Jonathan confirmed.

"Mmmm…" Their mother made notes as she listened. "But hold it. You don't need all those kinds of things for the Captain. He can't eat any of it. Well, I don't think he can."

"No, but we want to enjoy the party while we're surprising him!" Candy said logically. "The food's for us!"

Her mother smiled. "Fair enough. All right then, we'll need a lot of candles for the cake and streamers. We'll also need ice cream and confetti."

"What about presents?" Candy asked thoughtfully. "We should get him something."

Carolyn shook her head. "Yes, well that does present a problem. We'll have to give it some thought. What do you get a man who has nothing and can't use anything?" She smiled at the children, who laughed along with her.

Suddenly, Scruffy stood up on the footstool and barked. He pointed toward the telescope with one forepaw.

"Ssshhh…" Jonathan cautioned in an undertone. "He's here."

They all looked at the telescope as it slowly began to revolve. It now pointed out the window.

"Looking for something, Captain?" Carolyn asked in an innocent tone.

The telescope abruptly stopped moving and then the ghost popped in, also trying to look as if it was not a matter of note that he was there at all. He straightened up slowly, doing his best to appear casual. "The telescope will remain available to me at all times, naturally."

Carolyn smiled sweetly. "But, Captain, it happens to be in my room. And according to your rules, you're off limits. Your rules clearly state that your access to this room is to be between the hours of four and six in the evening for daily consultation."

She glanced at her wristwatch. "It's now only half past three."

"I have no intention of breaking my own rules, Madam," he replied loftily. He gave a small bow. "A simple oversight, I assure you. I shall adjust."

"Thank you, Captain," Carolyn replied as all three of them smiled at him. "And you do have an excellent spyglass up in the attic where none of us are allowed to venture. Good day, Captain."

"Good day, Madam," he replied coolly as he vanished, looking deeply put out.

"I thought of something else for the list, Mum," Candy said softly, just as Scruffy started barking again and pointing with his paw.

"Oh, not again," Jonathan huffed.

"Captain Gregg…" his mother called. "You're still here…"

The telescope began to spin wildly. "Blast that four-legged shag rug!" the ghost growled in deep discontent.

※※※※※

Martha was in the kitchen peeling vegetables for their evening meal when Candy and Jonathan came running in. They'd made up their list with their mother, now they needed to enlist the housekeeper's help.

"Martha…" Jonathan began. "Did I thank you for my wonderful birthday cake? It was groovy!"

"I guess your mouth was just too full of cake to get the words out," she replied. "But I figured you liked it since there was nothing left but crumbs."

Jonathan nodded. "Well, it was great! Better than great!" He grinned. "It was very yar!"

"If you say so…" The housekeeper stared at him.

Candy smiled. "Well, when we need one, will you bake another one for us, just like that one? Please?"

Martha frowned. "I thought we'd covered all the birthdays in this house. Except mine, which is a state secret and shall remain so forever."

"We haven't celebrated the Captain's birthday," Candy said innocently.

Martha stopped peeling the potatoes. "The Captain?"

"Maybe you'd better make it coconut like mine!" Jonathan declared.

"With lots and lots of frosting. He has years and years to make up for," Candy added. "We'll need lots of candles for it, too!"

"Thanks, Martha!" Jonathan dashed for the back door.

"Yeah, thanks!" Candy ran after him.

Martha looked after them with a perplexed expression. Carolyn entered the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the stove. Scruffy followed her into the room.

She'd just finished telephoning their first order for party supplies order to Lorrie Hammond. He promised to bag it up and keep everything aside until she got to town to collect them.

"Aren't the children carrying their imaginary Captain thing just a little too far?" Martha demanded to know as she cut up the potatoes. "Now they want me to bake a coconut birthday cake for him. Like he's actually a real person or something. I liked him better when he was just imaginary. He was always quiet and a lot less work."

"Well, you'd better make it chocolate, Martha," Carolyn replied, sipping her coffee. "I don't know if he likes coconut. I know he doesn't like anything with feathers."

The housekeeper stared at her. "You're not serious. I don't have time for silly games."

"Please, let's just humour them. We can afford it now. Where's the harm?"

"Okay…" Martha shrugged as she went back to her preparations. "But for a man who's been dead for over a hundred years, we better make it an angel's food cake!"

Carolyn smiled. "Devil's food cake might be better. We'll let you know when we need it. We want to surprise him."

She sipped her coffee. "The children also have a school play they have to make costumes for. The teacher sent them home with a list. We'll have to find the time for that as well. Thankfully, it's not until after the birthday party."

"Well, that is something I can help out with," the housekeeper replied firmly. "Give me the list and I'll get things all sorted."

"Thanks, Martha…" Carolyn took the note from the pocket of her skirt and handed it over. "Put it all on our account down at the General Store. And everything you'll need for the birthday cake the kids want you to make."

She was about to comment further when Scruffy suddenly stiffened. He growled low in his throat and pointed a forepaw toward the foyer.

"Oh, um, I think asparagus will be fine, Martha. It always goes so well with hollandaise sauce. I'll leave the rest of the menu up to you. You know what we like."

She quickly finished her coffee and left the room, taking the dog with her. Martha stared after her in confusion.

"In a cake?" She shook her head. "I swear this whole house is going to up and fly away someday soon. It's so full of hot air and rainbows!"

"Good dog." Carolyn smiled at her canine companion as she walked out into the front garden. "Now you keep watch. I've got garden work I need to do before it gets too cold outside."

She quickly settled into some much-needed weeding in the garden behind the front stone wall. It needed to be done before the cold weather finally set in and the first snows of winter finally arrived. Right now, they were still living in the last days of a glorious Indian summer that surely couldn't last.

As she worked, she could hear the children shouting happily as they played catch in the backyard. Scruffy settled down beside her, dropping his head onto his crossed paws.

Carolyn was content pulling weeds and setting all to rights with the afternoon sunshine warm on her shoulders. She couldn't help wondering how the Captain was getting on in his solitude at the top of the house. She did smile at the notion of him brooding over his state of enforced aloneness.

"Well, you asked for it…" she murmured. "No, belay that. You commanded it." She touched two fingers to her temple.

Scruffy suddenly sat up and growled. He pointed toward the house with one paw.

The Captain appeared beside the path, looking less than satisfied with the welcome. "Good afternoon, Madam…" He bowed his head formally.

"Good afternoon, Captain…" Carolyn paused in her work to consult her wristwatch. "May I ask what you're doing in this front yard area before 6 p.m.? I do believe you were very specific in your orders that we were not to be outside after that time unless a special pass was issued for any nighttime excursions. You did say you wished to be left alone to look at the moon and stars and make your calculations."

"I… Well, I was looking for my confounded pipe…" The Captain scowled at her. "I was sure I left it around here somewhere…" He pretended to begin a visual search.

"Well, I do believe that's your confounded pipe sticking out of your confounded pocket," Carolyn pointed out sweetly.

The Captain sighed as he plucked it from his jacket pocket and jammed the stem between his teeth. "Then I shall bid you a good afternoon, Madam," he said stiffly. He appeared to be waiting for her to ask him to stay.

"Good afternoon, Captain," Carolyn replied as she went back to her weeding.

Beside her, Scruffy had remained on point. He growled again, softly.

"Man's best friend, indeed," the ghost complained before he vanished in a huff.

"Good boy, Scruffy…" Carolyn patted the dog's head. "I think we've had our fun for now. I don't think he'll be back anytime soon. You can go and play with the kids in the backyard."

Scruffy needed no urging. He ran off barking and Carolyn went back to her weeding.

She was just about finished when she heard a car coming up the road from the direction of the town. She looked up to see Claymore's Ford approaching.

"Oh, dear…" she murmured, rising to her feet. "The Captain's not going to be too pleased about this." She glanced back at the house, but there was no sign of the irascible spook. She could only pray Claymore would not stay too long.

Her landlord tooted his horn as he drew up, looking quite relaxed for an unwanted visitor. He turned off the ignition and alighted from the car. "Oh, Mrs Muir…" he called.

"Claymore," Carolyn replied cautiously. "What are you doing here? It's not the day to collect the rent. Or are you planning on trying to evict me again? You didn't do too well last time."

"Oh, such silly little bygones really do need to be left as bygones," Claymore puffed, shaking his head. "A small matter of a misunderstanding on my part. You know how much I value my tenants. All my tenants. I was simply distracted by the promise of a great deal of money. But I have since recovered from that unfortunate setback. I have risen again to prosper."

He sighed dramatically as he turned back to the car and reached across into the passenger seat. "I just happened to be at Lorrie Hammond's general store, and I saw your order with your name on it waiting on the counter. I said to Lorrie that I would bring it straight out to you. Save you the trouble of going into town. Since I was coming out this way anyway. I have a new tenant moving into the house down the road." He paused for breath and smiled.

"Well, why, thank you, Claymore." Carolyn received the large paper bag full of party supplies he handed to her. "That's very nice of you. But you'd better go before he sees you. It will not go well for you. Go and enjoy your new tenant."

"Oh, it's truly no trouble at all, Mrs Muir." Claymore laughed, making no move to leave. "These sorts of things aren't heavy."

He started to finger the items in the bag. "Streamers and confetti. Um, and all these other little party goods." He played with the rolls of wrapping paper. "Whatever it is, it's going to be very festive." He raised his eyebrows.

"Thank you. I really do appreciate it," Carolyn replied as Scruffy arrived on the wall beside her, staring at their visitor. "But you really should be going. The Captain is not in a very good mood. You don't want to be struck by lightning."

"Oh, but I'm not doing anything except talking to you, dear lady." Claymore shrugged as he gave the dog a sideways look and a nervous pat. "What's a good landlord for it he can't do a favour for a valued tenant like you, Mrs Muir. Or when I say landlord, I really mean 'friend'…" he wheedled. "We can still be friends, right?"

"Friends… I guess so." Carolyn nodded as she tried to move away but he kept hold of the bag. "As long as you don't try to evict me again." She couldn't help wondering what he was angling for.

"As if I would try anything so dastardly…" Claymore raised his hat. "You see before you a loyal friend who doesn't have a single commitment for the next few evenings. So if you have something you are just dying to ask me, then please, just ask."

He touched two fingers to his temple. "I am completely and totally at your service, my dear. I cannot say better than that."

Carolyn shook her head. "Oh, that's really very nice of you, Claymore. But I can't think of any reason I may need you. Everything is up to date and in order. And you know how much the Captain dislikes having you around here. He may just appear at any moment. You don't want to get a fresh attack of dyspepsia."

"Well…" Claymore rattled the contents of the bag. "I'll go but first I gotta know. Perhaps you need a gay bachelor to brighten up a special evening? Surely old Spookface couldn't object to my attending a little party given by his great-nephew's most valued tenant."

"Well, given the mood he's in at present…" Carolyn shrugged. "But all right, Claymore, I guess it couldn't hurt. You're invited to the party. But don't say I didn't warn you. However, it's not for nearly a month yet. Can you wait that long?"

"Oh, sure I can wait. Then it'll be a nice surprise when you telephone to remind me," he crowed. "Um, what's the occasion, then? Is it your birthday? Or Martha's? One of the kids?"

He frowned at the dog. "It better not be Scruffy's. I don't think I'd like a cake made out of dog biscuits."

"No, it's none of them. We're actually giving a belated birthday party for the Captain," Carolyn replied blithely, trying not to smile as her landlord's cheery face fell in shock.

"Oh, I see… Well, whenever it is, that's the one night I'm going to be very busy. As you said, he wouldn't want me around." Claymore let go of the bag and turned to leave. "Bye…"

"Wait, Claymore!" Carolyn put out a hand. "I think the Captain might be very pleased to know you thought enough of him to attend his party. After all, you are his only family. You could mend some fences with him and assure him you have nothing but good intentions toward us. Make up for things like trying to get the house torn down. That wasn't very well done of you."

"You really think so, Mrs Muir?" he asked doubtfully. "I mean, he hates me. I know he does. He's always looking for a reason to hurt me or make me miserable."

He rubbed absently at his abdomen. "You were right. I'm getting a fresh attack of dyspepsia just thinking about him. That's never a good sign."

"Oh, but he doesn't hate you all the time, Claymore. Sometimes he thinks of you kindly. I'll admit it's not very often. But I think he might be quite touched if you came and brought him a small gift."

"Touched, I see…" Claymore fidgeted with his hat. "As long as he doesn't touch me. It always hurts." He fought an inner battle for another second or two. "A small gift, you said. From his only living family member." He gave a nervous titter.

"Ah, huh…" Carolyn nodded. "Yes, just a token of your esteem for him. I know he will appreciate it."

"Just a token…" Claymore held one thumb and a finger up very close together. "All right, Mrs Muir, I'll do it." He planted his hat firmly on his head. "I'll get him a beautiful gift. Even if it costs every trading stamp I have." He nodded happily.

"Oh, Claymore, you're the last of the big spenders," Carolyn replied.

"It shows, doesn't it?" he said proudly, casting a worried look back at the house as he hurried for his car.

"Oh, it shows, all right. But not in a good way…" Carolyn laughed and waved as she watched him drive away.

The long weeks stretched ahead until the required date in November arrived. She knew she would have to do all she could to keep the Captain out of their way. The last couple of days had already proved difficult. But she would make sure they did their very best to stick with the schedule the Captain had laid down. It was the only way if they were to succeed in surprising him with his first birthday party in over one hundred years.

The thorny issue of the necessary changes that needed to be made to 'Maiden Voyage' remained. Working on it with the Captain would prove very difficult because he would be breaking the strict rules they were all trying so hard to live by.

But the opposite was also true. It would be just as hard to work on it without his expert input and without him discovering what she was doing.

"Blast…" Carolyn sighed as she leaned her hips back against the sun-warmed wood of the front gate. "I have no idea what I'm going to do now…"

※※※※※

It took the greater part of the evening for Carolyn to finally decide what she needed to do. She realised there was only one place she could go. Only one person she could talk to in complete confidence. A woman who'd already read the story in question and had secretly enjoyed it.

"And it's not my mother or Cousin Harriet…" she murmured with a grimace as she walked back downstairs from putting Candy and Jonathan to bed.

She crossed the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet. She poured two small measures of sherry into a pair of cut crystal glasses. She carried them to the kitchen table and sat down opposite Martha who was concentrating on reading the morning's newspaper. Scruffy walked under the table to lie down at Carolyn's feet with his head resting on his crossed paws.

"Good dog. You keep watch…" Carolyn approved as she pushed one of the glasses across the table to her good friend.

Martha frowned as she folded aside her paper. "Okay, what are we celebrating now? Or shouldn't I ask? I hope it's not a new request for me to bake a cake for some other phantom's ghostly birthday party because I won't do it. I like to cook for humans."

Carolyn smiled at her caution. "No, there's only one party the children want to hold." She took a sip of her sherry. "I've just had some rather good news, that's all. I thought we should celebrate."

"Okay, spill," the housekeeper commanded, watching her closely. "You've been like a cat dancing on a hot tin roof for days. I knew something was up the day of Jonathan's party after you took that phone call. Some really good news I can handle."

Carolyn nodded as she looked right and left before she leaned closer and lowered her voice. "You know I have a new editor in Bridget Lacey at the magazine. She telephoned to talk to me on the day of Jonathan's birthday."

"Yeah, I took her call…" Martha nodded as she sipped her drink. "That Ellsworth Gordon was no loss. A nasty piece of work and no mistake. But, what's your Ms Lacey been telling you that requires sherry? She sounded very mysterious on the phone and only wanted to talk to you. Like it was top secret or something."

She shrugged. "Not that I'm complaining. But I hope there's some decent money attached to whatever it is. Otherwise, we will have to start digging up the backyard. Jonathan's party has wiped out most of our cash reserves."

"There could be quite a bit of money, actually," Carolyn confided softly. "She's read 'Maiden Voyage' and wants me to turn it into a full-length novel. And if that's a success, she then wants me to write more of the same."

"So, that's how it is, is it?" Martha whistled long and low. "Well, knock me over with a feather." She took a larger mouthful of her sherry. "We might need one or two more of these to steady my nerves once the word gets out."

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about this? I mean, remember the stir that story caused last time. We almost had to leave town. Your mother took to her smelling salts for weeks, dreading that someone she knew might read it and put two and two together."

She raised her shoulders. "I heard that your Cousin Harriet was packing, ready to come down here and give you a very large piece of her mind. You only managed to cut her off at the pass by reassuring your mother that it was all just a huge misunderstanding and telling her it wouldn't ever happen again."

The housekeeper looked her over with approval. "And now it is, it seems. Good for you." She raised her glass in salute. "I thought you were about to tell me you were going to try and publish that musty old poem that Tim Seagirt mailed back to you."

Carolyn raised her shoulders. "It isn't mine to publish," she said cryptically. "I need to return it to its rightful owner."

"Ah, ha…" Martha frowned at her. "Well, I say, good luck with that. If you mean the Captain, then you'd be better off just tossing it back into the attic where it obviously belongs. Tim Seagirt must have been snooping around up in there."

"Yes, I guess so…" Carolyn sighed. "And don't remind me about that awful time we had last year. We will have to change the name of the manuscript and from now on I'll make very sure I use a pen name. Nothing that can be traced back to me. But from what Bridget told me, it seems times have suddenly changed," she continued as she got up to fetch the bottle of sherry. "And for the better."

She sat down again and quickly explained the radically changed circumstances of the current literary landscape. Martha clicked her tongue as she shook her head and held out her glass for another refill. "I will say that was a very good story. It surely got my interest. How you came up with it is beyond me. Are you sure you can follow through? It seems she wants some quite radical changes."

Carolyn shrugged. "There's only one way to find out. But first, I need to turn the article into a full-length novel. That's not an easy undertaking."

"Well, what are you sitting around here for?" the housekeeper wanted to know. "Get up those blasted stairs and start typing out some new pages. You write them and I'll read them. I can't say fairer than that. I do love a good story and that was a ripper of a one."

She wagged a warning finger. "Just as long as it's got a good ending. All women love a good happy ever after. The heroine ending up with the Captain would be the best way to go. They were made for each other. She can forget all about her intended. He was never going to be good enough for her anyway."

"Are you really sure I can do this?" Carolyn asked worriedly.

"There's only one way to find out and that's to do it," Martha replied stoutly. "How will you know if you don't try?"

"Yes, you do have a point there. I'll get started as soon as we've had this sherry and washed up the dishes."

"Leave the dishes to me. Go on now, and take your sherry up with you," Martha advised, standing up. "I don't want to hear another word from you tonight. All I want to hear is the happy clacking of that typewriter until your fingers are too sore to go on."

She leaned down to give her friend a swift hug. "I've got faith in you. You can do this. Just think of all the money you're going to make. We'll never be poor again."

She grinned. "Of course, I'll be expecting a decent pay rise. I think that's only fair since I'll be helping you." She drained her sherry glass and waited expectantly.

Carolyn couldn't deny her as she rose to her feet. She drained her glass and held it out.

"Nothing ventured, I guess…" she remarked. "Come on, Scruffy. You can sleep with me tonight and keep a watch out for you-know-who," she commanded as she left the kitchen, followed by the dog.

Martha frowned as she looked after her with concern at her odd remark. "Sometimes I swear that the people in this house keep getting stranger and stranger every day…"

※※※※※