Ghosts of Oaklight Hall

Chapter 1-3

“Greaves, who is this man?” said the woman sharply, pointing at me but glaring at the obviously embarrassed butler. Greaves fumbled for the now sweat-crumpled card I had given him.

“This is…Mr…Mr Edward Grubb, ma’am…from the Trust,” said Greaves, still breathless and putting an emphasis on the last two words, which told me I was unlikely to be a welcome visitor. I had, at least, read enough of the brief for that to be no surprise.

The woman, ignoring me, turned once more to her companion.

“Very well, Mr Spool. We shall look forward to your visit tomorrow morning. Are there other preparations that we should put into effect?” The delay in speaking to me seemed intended to discomfit me. I folded my arms and waited for them to finish. The elderly man, whom I supposed to be the undertaker, was shaking his head calmly.

“No, no, everything is fine, and as we discussed. Oh, perhaps, the piano? If it could be moved just a smidgeon to the back of the drawing-room. Some of my equipment, the tripod, so to speak, is a little bulky.” The woman nodded in reply.

“Quite so. Greaves, show Mr Spool to the door.” Greaves, now recovered, shuffled to escort the undertaker to the door, moving somewhat faster than I had seen him do before.

The woman I guessed to be Lady Flora, the eldest daughter of the, apparently, late Lord Oaklight now turned to me. I saw her take a deep breath before continuing.

“Mr Grubb. All our dealings with the Trust are conducted by correspondence. I see no reason for you to call on us at this time.”

“Ah, indeed, ma’am. Correspondence, yes,” I said. “The Trust has written a number of times. But it seems our letters may have gone astray, as we are still waiting on your reply, ma’am.” The woman’s composure seemed to tremble a little, and she pulled a small handkerchief to her lips as if in evidence of upset, but her grey eyes remained sharp so that I wondered if it was an act.

“Really, Mr Grubb, this simply is not convenient. My dear father passed away only last night. Surely you can see that this is a most difficult time. If this is a matter of the will, I must ask that you show some consideration and defer this matter until after the funeral?”

The unexpected passing of Lord Oaklight had thrown a bit of a spanner into the works and no mistake. If it had been my decision alone, I probably would’ve shrugged and turned around in the hope of catching Wilfred on his return journey to the station. There was unfinished business there I would have liked to conclude. Yet somehow, something in the woman’s demeanour told me she wasn’t being completely straight with me. And anyway, knowing my father as I did, I suspect he wouldn’t be too impressed by having to fork out expenses for travelling up from London and back with nothing to show for it. Certainly, not with such a feeble reason as the old boy croaking in the night as my sole excuse.

“Ah yes, the will,” I said, and thinking I must sound a right bastard for mentioning it. “The will is one of the things the Trust has asked me to investigate. Together with the unexpected rise in expenditure of late, ma’am.”

Lady Flora gave me a look of sudden anxiety, then shot a warning glance at Greaves as he returned from escorting out the undertaker and was showing great interest in what I had just said.

“I think we should continue this conversation in the library, Mr Grubb. Greaves, fetch Pastor Kid, will you, and tell him to join us there urgently. Mr Grubb, this way if you please?” She turned away, her skirts briskly sweeping the flagstone floor as she walked. Her words were spoken as a summons rather than an invitation. I followed behind, thinking my father would be pleased with how I had acquitted myself so far. “Shake the tree, boy! Shake the tree, and see what drops out!” had been his advice. I had protested how unsuited I was for such an auditing assignment, pointing out the whole two weeks’ experience of double-entry bookkeeping I had been given before I had run away to join the navy to escape such drudgery. Yet, here I was.

I followed Lady Flora into the library. Here too, the building’s origins as an abbey were visible. Large, pointed windows gave more light than we had had in the hallway. Although once again, the gas mantles did not appear to have been lit. Whatever extravagances the estate might be guilty of, paying the gas bill didn’t seem to be one of them.

The ceiling had originally been vaulted, though much of that had now been boxed in with bookshelves or new masonry. Some of the arches appeared truncated as subsequent building work had cut past them, slicing them short so that the arches appeared to continue past the current wall into long-vanished rooms. Two of the remaining piers had stone busts of clergymen affixed to the top of the piers. The figures loomed over us, as if listening in to our conversation.

The room looked rarely used. There was a considerable amount of dust and cobwebs draping both the bookshelves as well as our stony audience. Some of the books, too, looked as ancient as the building itself. Many of them were held to their place by long rusting chains. I noted several gaps in the shelves, and some of the chains were hanging loosely, as if their charges had become bored of their long confinement and made a run for it, just as I had once done.

“Let them dance in flames!”

I turned suddenly at the words whispered sharply behind me. Lady Flora’s attention was on the door in front of us and appeared to have heard nothing. Behind was only a broad hearth, unlit, which explained the deep chill to the room.

I had barely time to take any of this in, when the arrival of Pastor Kid made me turn once more. I recognised the man’s name from the papers I had trawled through before setting off on my journey. He functioned as the estate manager. Although what parish he served and under what denomination, I was never to learn. He was heavily set, with a receding hairline, thick, fashionable mutton-chop whiskers, plus a prominent nose that looked as if it had once been broken. A brawler? The word popped unbidden into my head, despite his apparent church calling. But if so, his demeanour gave no other such sign of recklessness. He appeared to have the kind of pursed-lipped probity of a preacher from one of the poorer districts of London.

He reminded me of the parson brought to us on board my old ship, minutes before we were due to go on leave in Port Said, haranguing us with an hour-long sermon on the subject of abstinence. I recall he had seemed unsatisfied with the receptiveness of my shipmates and made the mistake of following us ashore. His attempts to woo the locals with his hellfire brand of Methodism also appeared to fall on deaf ears.

We left him in full flow in the town’s main square, apparently oblivious to the turbaned locals who stared angrily at this impudent infidel.

Days later, we had to rescue him from the local brothel, stark naked and forced to serve drinks. The girls’ prices had been tattooed on his arse so that he was scared to leave the building, standard coitus on the left, extras on the right.

Pastor Kid strode towards us, and I moved around to get a better light to read the man’s lips. I needn’t have bothered; he spoke with a clear, authoritative voice.

“You sent for me, Lady Flora. Is there a problem?” he said, looking straight at me.

“Yes, Robert…Pastor. This gentleman is from the Trust; he has come up at this most distressing time to look at the books.” Pastor Kid was appraising me carefully, but his expression remained inscrutable.

“May I see your credentials, sir?”

I pulled out my father’s letter and handed it to him. He unfolded it and made a show of reading it, but I noticed his eyes appeared unfocused as if he was looking for time rather than seriously considering its contents. At last, he handed the letter back to me and surprised me with a broad smile.

“Not a problem, my dear Lady Flora. The Trust has every right to look at our finances any time it wants to. There has been some exceptional expenditure lately, I admit. Work on the dam, for example. The lake remains part of the estate and is our responsibility. Shall I bring out a few invoices? We can all have this settled in just a jiffy.” I may not be the most experienced auditor in the world, but I knew a fob-off when I hear one.

“Ah, I have no wish to inconvenience you, but I rather think I will need to see more than just a few invoices.”

“Really!” said Lady Flora. “This is most impertinent. This is simply because I am a woman, is it not? Not trusted to manage the affairs of the estate. I shall be writing to the Trustees about this!”

“Not at all, ma’am,” I began carefully. If Lady Flora had known of my own mother’s handling of the Grubb business affairs, she would’ve known that that was the last thing on my mind. “That would be most unfortunate, your Ladyship. It would leave me little choice but to report that we should suspend further appropriations from the Trust until a full audit has been carried out.”

“How dare you! I demand that you leave my house at once…” Lady Flora was red-faced and dabbed at her eyes as if to wipe away tears. Pastor Kid waved his hands, then placed a placating arm on Lady Flora’s shoulder.

“Now, now. There’s no need for there to be any upset. The fellow is just trying to do his job, my dear. I’m sure this can all be settled in a few days.” He added something more in Lady Flora’s ear too faint for me to catch, and with his back to me, I could no longer read the man’s lips. I suppose I had gone a bit full-on, so I decided to say nothing more.

Lady Flora seemed to calm from her outburst, nodding quietly to whatever Kid had said to her.

“Perhaps we could put the fellow in those rooms above the servants’ quarters,” said Kid, speaking to Lady Flora once more. “He won’t be in the way there.” I took the inference that I was to be treated like a servant but kept my peace.

“Very well, Mr Grubb,” said Lady Flora, though her bodice seemed to heave a little with agitation. “Please wait here. I will ask Greaves to show you to your room.” With that, she flounced out the door, followed by a smiling Pastor Kid before I could ask them anything about how I was to carry out my duties. Not for the first time, I wished I was back in the navy, where I had nothing more complicated to do than fire very big guns at American ships.