A Ghost in the Machine (14 page)

“I was wondering…Jude?”

“Sorry. Drifted off.”

“Could we go out, d'you think?”

“Out? Um…I suppose…”

“Just to have tea, perhaps. A change of scene would be really nice.”

“Of course we could.” He must be sick to death of these four walls. Why on earth hadn't she thought of it? “Anywhere special?”

“There's that new hotel on the way to Beaconsfield. I think it's called the Peacock—”

“No. I…wouldn't want to go there.”

“OK.” Ashley, frowning, put the colander of beans aside. He waited, curious and concerned.

“They're…um…surly.” Judith calmed her unsteady breath. “I found them surly.”

“Then we'll go somewhere else. The Soft Shoe Café?”

“I love that name.”

“So Fred and Ginger.”

Judith sang: “‘Isn't this a lovely day to be caught in the rain?'”

Suddenly she was happy. It would be an event to go out together even if it was just to an ordinary caff in boring old Causton. She smiled in anticipation. This was the second nice thing to happen in so many days, the first being the disappearance of the Lawson girl.

Judith assumed she had gone back to London. She had last seen Polly a couple of nights ago, running through the gates of Appleby House into the soft grey evening light. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, lifting her head towards the early stars, smiling. Where was she going, without wheels, at this time of night? Meeting someone presumably. Someone who didn't want to drive up to the house. Then, just a few yards along the lane, she used her mobile. Talked briefly, checked her watch and wandered off into the village.

So vivid was this recall that Judith gave quite a jump when their own phone rang. She got up but Ashley, who was nearer, stretched across the back of his chair and picked up the receiver. He said: “Kate!” the exclamation warm with surprise and pleasure.

Judith's contentment dissolved like mist on the sea. She longed to snatch the thing from him. It would be for her anyway, wouldn't it? Something domestic. She reached out a hand. Ashley waved her away.

“How are you? More important, when are you coming back?” He laughed then said, “Too long, too long.”

“What does she want?” Even to her own ears Judith sounded shrill. “Ashley?”

“Really? We saw her only this morning…Of course we will. You should have rung before…Try not to worry. I'm sure everything's OK. Do you want a word with Jude?…Fine. We'll check it out. Bye.”

“What did she want?”

“I wish you wouldn't do that.”

“What?”

“Interrupt, try and take over. I may be ill but I'm still capable of handling a phone call.”

“Sorry.” I should have a record made.

“They've been trying to ring Appleby House for two days. The operator said the phone was off the hook.”

“Right.” Judith got up, glad to leave the beans. “I'll go and sort it.”

Benny was amazed at Judith's news. They checked both the downstairs telephones, which were securely on their rests. The only other set, explained Benny, was in Carey's room and it couldn't be that because no one had gone in since she died. Well, herself once, but only because she'd absolutely had to.

Seeing Benny becoming increasingly anxious and distressed Judith suggested the operator could have made a mistake and there was actually a fault on the line. However, before they reported it shouldn't they make absolutely sure…?

“I must come with you,” cried Benny, and immediately regretted it. She had spoken impulsively, feeling somehow that no one but herself should enter Carey's room. Yet, as they both climbed the stairs, Benny made herself acknowledge how foolish this attitude was. Pretty soon Kate and Mallory would be living here and then not just Carey's room but the whole house would probably change beyond recognition.

“This is the one.” Benny paused only long enough to take a single deep breath, then turned the white ceramic knob and went in. She saw the telephone receiver straight away. It was lying on its side on the bedside table.

Judith moved quickly, putting her arm round Benny's waist. Taking the full weight.

“Benny—look, it's all right. Come and sit down. You must have made a call and forgotten to—”

“I didn't!
I didn't
…” Benny let herself be supported towards the bed. “I haven't been in here…”

She sat, pale as paper, lips trembling, hands jiggling. Further denying the possibility, she shook her head back and forth with such ferocity Judith feared she would hurt herself.

“Oh, dear…” Judith attempted to hold Benny and calm this terrible agitation. She tried to remain patient but it wasn't easy. Surely this was a reaction too far? Next time, she thought, I'll send Ash. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

Benny did not reply but her eyes kept sliding sideways to the telephone and she became very still. When Judith picked up the receiver to replace it she gave a little whinny of fear. Judith sighed, struggled not to show her vexation and went downstairs to put the kettle on. The minute the tea was made she would ring the Lawsons. The sooner they came down the better. Benny was not Judith's responsibility. She had more than enough on her plate without having to cope with hysterical old maids.

 

The following morning Mrs. Crudge, having spent at least half an hour attempting to comfort, console and counsel was on the point of giving up. As she was to say to her Ernest that very evening, “I was wrung to a wither.”

“Benny, my love—you don't know how lucky you are.” She drained her coffee cup. “Some folks'd give their right arm to have a direct sign from the paralogical.”

“I thought it was that murderer. From Badger's Drift.”

“He's miles away by now.”

“Or a burglar.” Benny started crying and snuffling again.

“Burglars burgle things. They don't just take a phone off the hook then run off.”

“I suppose not.”

“I mean—it wouldn't be worth their while, what with prison and everything. Just going around taking phones off hooks.”

“Judith said I must have made a call but I didn't, Doris. I haven't been in that room since just before the funeral.”

“Of course you haven't. No living hand touched that apparatus. It's a pity you didn't get on to me straight away. There might have been etheric traces lingering.”

“What could you have done, Doris?”

Doris hesitated. Her solid cheeks took on an almost clover-like hue and Benny realised that her friend was actually blushing.

“Well, I am actually what is known in psychic circles as a sensitive.”

Benny wanted to ask, a sensitive what? but it seemed a bit rude. “What does that mean exactly?”

“We see things.” A definite note of superiority had crept into Mrs. Crudge's voice. “Things that other people can't see.”

“You mean things that aren't there?”

“I shouldn't fret about technical details, my love. What matters is—the sign's been given. Miss Lawson's in touch. All you have to do is come along next Sunday afternoon to receive the message.”

This time Benny didn't immediately reject the idea. She sat quietly, thinking about it. She thought, what if, in the face of all modern knowledge and intelligence and science and common sense and everything, Doris was right? Could it be true that Carey was making huge efforts to connect, leaving signs and wisps of stuff and suchlike? Imagine the strain, the sheer energy involved in heaving that receiver off its stand. She would not be very pleased if Benny could not even be bothered to go along and collect any messages. It didn't bear thinking of. Even a disembodied Carey was a force to be reckoned with. What if she came to the house and started haunting?

“Would other people be aware of a…presence, Doris?” Even mentioning the word made Benny feel all spooky. “Kate and Mallory, for instance?”

Doris hesitated before replying. She had known Mallory all her grown-up life. He had been seven years old when she had first started working for Carey Lawson. A regular visitor to Appleby House and a bright little chap always helping himself to cakes and biscuits the minute her back was turned. Or hiding her bag and outdoor shoes, then finding them just as she was about to explode with frustration. But Doris, having no children of her own, had grown quite fond, for there wasn't a spark of malice in him. Which was more than you could say of that brazen trollop, his daughter. She had been a spiteful, manipulating child and Doris was glad when she got old enough to be left at home.

She liked Kate, though. Unlike some of Carey's visitors Mallory's wife was really thoughtful. You'd never arrive first thing to find a sinkful of dirty dishes with food caked on when the Lawsons were staying. Or unmade beds and the bathroom floor swimming and soaking towels thrown all over…

“Sorry, Ben?” Doris'd drifted off for a second there. That was the strange thing about the past: you always remembered it as being much more interesting than the present yet at the time it was happening it had actually been rather dull.

“They're coming today, you see…” Benny had been overwhelmed with emotion when Judith, having rung the Lawsons, had returned to say that Kate would be with her as soon as possible the next day. And that Mallory would drive down after school had closed. She had wept tears of gratitude, much to Judith's embarrassment. “…so I was wondering if I should tell them. About Carey…um…”

“Coming through?”

“Yes.”

“Best not.”

In discouraging Benny Mrs. Crudge was not prompted by any notion of exclusivity. She had no wish to shut the Lawsons out – quite the contrary. Nothing would have made her happier than all four of them going along to the Church of the Near at Hand and partaking of spiritual sustenance. But experience had taught her that such an excursion would never happen. That there would always be a barrier dividing the likes of the Lawsons and the church's congregation. And Mrs. Crudge, over the years, had come to the reluctant conclusion that the barrier was education.

Or rather overeducation. Doris had left school at fifteen and started work straight away. She had never seen the point of exams and did not regret her inability to pass any. Intelligence, it seemed to Doris, could be quite a handicap for a simple person. Obviously everyone needed to read and write. They needed to understand figures, though that wasn't as important as it used to be what with calculators and everything. But then a line should be drawn. Going on and on and on led to nothing but trouble. Scientists who made bombs, doctors who chopped all the wrong bits off, judges who let criminals go scot-free, all so-called educated people.

As for education opening the mind…That was not what Mrs. Crudge and fellow strivers after a new order of cosmic being had found. The minds of the sneering cynics – which seemed to include practically everyone you met these days – were closed tighter than sprung traps. Oh, the workers for the high meridian knew what it was to be a persecuted minority all right! And yet these know-alls, these eggheads, were the real losers for they had lost the ability to believe in miracles. They had lost their way.

“I think, Ben – if you're worried about telling Mallory, say you're going round mine for tea come Sunday.”

“Oh, I couldn't do that,” said Benny, deeply embarrassed. “It would be a lie.”

“No, it wouldn't.” Doris was getting up now, reaching for her outdoor coat, a light wool in spite of the warmth of the day. “That's exactly what we'll be doing after the service – having tea together.”

“I suppose you're right.”

Though sounding subdued and even a little fearful, in fact Benny had already decided she would go. If anything dramatic happened she would be with a friend and surrounded by people so could come to no harm. And if nothing happened she would regard the whole thing as a bit of an adventure and enjoy the slap-up spread.

Benny sighed and wished she felt what Doris would doubtless call “a bit more smart.” She had slept thoroughly, if not very well, waking with nothing worse than a dry mouth, a bit of a headache and a general feeling of stupefaction. Judith had offered her some of Ashley's sleeping pills, which Benny had refused to take on the grounds that they could be dangerous, being someone else's prescription.

Judith got really terse then, saying that she couldn't possibly leave Benny in the state she was and that she, Judith, had a job to do the next day and a sick husband to look after and needed her sleep just as much if not more than Benny did. So Benny had meekly swallowed two pills and was now wishing she hadn't.

 

When Doris had left, Benny got slowly to her feet, washed up the coffee cups then made the bed in Kate and Mallory's room with clean linen and lavender bags underneath the pillows. She had no notion of when Kate would actually arrive but, in case it was before lunch, decided to buy some fresh crusty bread from the Spar shop.

It took almost twenty minutes to cover the quarter-mile walk for Benny had to stop and chat to anything on two legs and pat or stroke anything on four. The store had some really nice York ham on the bone. Benny bought half a pound for sandwiches, some peaches and a quilted paper towel roll decorated with apple blossom. She picked up a
Times
then, making her way to the till, spotted the jolliest little item imaginable. A Highland terrier carved from a huge cake of soap, coloured and scented lilac. It came with a bone-shaped sponge, also coloured lilac. The bone was encircled by a tiny collar made of real leather holding a disc marked “To:” and “From:,” all ready to write on.

Benny felt she owed Judith an apology for being such a nuisance last night as well as a thank you for all her kind help. She would call in on the way home – they would have finished breakfast by now – and what's more she would take the terrier as a present!