Authors: Kitty French
Marina loosens her death-grip on my hand. ‘I think you might owe Leo Dark a sexual favour.’
We hear them moving away along the landing into the other bedrooms and I rack my brains for our next move.
‘We need to get down the corridor to the main bedroom,’ I say, and then I gasp because a hand has just grabbed my ankle and is hauling me out from under the bed. I cling to Marina in panic, and she kicks out viciously at the fingers with her high heel. I take a moment to reflect on how different a movie
Taken
might have been if Liam Neeson’s daughter had been a stiletto fan. He wouldn’t have needed to find the abductors and kill them, but then the internet would have been deprived of one of its finest memes.
Whoever it is hanging onto my ankle mutters an irate ‘fucking hell’ under his breath and lets go, then bends down to stare at us.
‘Fletch,’ I breathe with relief, trying not to look at the blood on his knuckles as he reaches his hand out and tugs first me and then Marina from our hiding place. ‘You came.’
Not only that, he came in not much more than five minutes. Maybe he just happened to be in the area, or maybe he truly is my real life superhero on call whenever I really, really need him.
‘What the fuck is going on here?’ he asks, low and urgent.
‘There isn’t a quick answer to that,’ I say, thinking how to shrink this down into his terms, which means no ghosts or things that go bump in the night to make him sneer, then get mad and leave again. Luckily there are chunks of this story that are black and white. ‘Donovan Scarborough is furious with me because he thinks I’ve broken in and that I’m going to hold up the sale of the house.’
‘Have you, and are you?’
‘Well, technically yes, and yes, but for a good reason.’
Fletch rolls his eyes as if to say he doesn’t think he’s going to like what he’s about to hear.
‘Don’t tell me anything about ghosts or I might just leave you to get whacked.’
Marina jumps in to help. ‘Okay, forget the ghosts. There was a murder in this house about a hundred years ago and we’re going to solve it, if you’ll help us?’
Oh, now he’s interested. His reporter’s ears prick up and his moss-green eyes glitter with excitement he can’t hide.
‘No bullshit?’
We both shake our heads, and Marina crosses her heart for good measure.
‘Why do I think I’m gonna regret this?’ he mutters, and then sighs heavily. ‘What do you need me to do?’
I
t’s a hastily cobbled together
plan, but I think we might just be able to pull it off. It’s two-pronged, and Fletch doesn’t approve of the first prong at all on account of the fact that it falls into the grey area between black and white that makes no sense to his logical brain. Pulling my phone out again, I quickly text Artie.
What’s happening down there?
Donovan’s chucked us out, we’re in the garden. Be careful, he’s crazy.
Can you get Richard and Jojo into the cellar?
There’s a pause, and then,
Yes, I think so.
Good. Meet me there in five minutes.
I click my phone off and put it in the back pocket of my jeans, then thank the Gods of good timing that Douglas chooses that moment to saunter in. I don’t miss the way he looks at Fletch; as if he is envious of his beating heart and ability to kiss my hand if he chose to.
‘What did I miss?’ he asks.
‘Douglas, I need your help. Can you please go up and ask Isaac to meet me in the cellar right away? It’s vitally important that he comes as quickly as possible.’
He nods, all traces of his usual easy humour gone.
‘Is this it, at last?’ he asks solemn and pensive, and I nod.
‘I think it will be, yes.’
He looks at me as if he’d like to say more, and then he disappears.
I turn back to Marina, and to Fletch who’s been twitching the grey net curtains to keep an eye on the street while I do the stuff that makes him think I’m crazy.
‘Done. Now I just need to get down to the cellar without being seen.’
Fletch listens out by the door. ‘They’re up in the attic. I’ll go up there and keep them talking. They don’t even know I’m here yet, the front door was open and I just walked straight in.’
‘It’s going to have to be enough,’ I say. ‘Go now, but remember I need to get back up to the bedroom to search for the bear when I’m done in the cellar.’
He goes out onto the landing, and then sticks his head back around the door.
‘Bittersweet . . .’ he pauses. ‘Just be careful.’
And then he’s gone, and I can’t help but feel bolstered by the fact that Leo turned out to be more loyal than Rolfe from
The Sound of Music
and Fletch is potentially a superhero and a little bit like Don Draper. Is it any wonder I’m confused? When this is over I might need to take a holiday to get my head around all of this. That’s assuming that I live, of course, and I can find someone to take Lestat. Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.
Marina kicks her high heels off and we tiptoe down the grand staircase, taking care not to draw attention to ourselves as we run silently across the hall and slide into the cellar, exhilarated and terrified in equal measure as we lean against the wall and almost laugh as Artie comes bounding up the steps to meet us.
‘There you are,’ he says, his face a picture of fear and excitement and pure relief at the sight of us.
‘It’ll take more than the likes of Donovan Scarborough to get rid of us,’ I say, patting him on the arm in comfort.
‘Even if he has turned into Jack Nicholson in
The Shining
,’ Marina adds, bending to put her shoes back on. ‘He’s gone right off the deep end.’
Isaac and Douglas both slide through the closed cellar door and join us on the small, square landing at the top of the steps. Isaac looks anxious, like a patient in the hospital waiting room about to hear his test results.
‘Isaac and Douglas have just arrived,’ I say.
Artie nods once. ‘And JoJo and Richard are over by the coal hatch.’
I’m thinking how to best organise the meeting when on the other side of the cellar door someone turns the key and locks us in, followed by the light click of high heels walking away across the hall tiles.
‘Goddamn those bloody twins, not again!’ I say, thinking fast. ‘Artie, get over there and out of the hatch quickly in case they try to block that exit too. Tell Richard and Jojo I’ll be over in a second.’
He takes the stairs two at a time, galvanised, and I turn to Isaac and Douglas.
‘Isaac, I’m sorry about what happened to Charles,’ I say, softly. ‘It must have come as a terrible blow, I wish I could have told you more tactfully.’
‘It’s not as if I ever met him.’ He looks at the ground, defeated. ‘I’d just always hoped his life had been a happy one.’
I wish there was something I could say to lift him, and then I remember that maybe there is.
‘Isaac, look at me.’ After a moment he lifts his head and contemplates me with his tired, pale-blue gaze.
‘Your grandson Richard, Charles’s son, is here, and he’d very much like to meet you. He brought your great-granddaughter Jojo with him too. They’ve driven down from Hull, and they’re here right now waiting for us over by the coal chute.’
I turn to Douglas, who’s been hanging back, awkward. ‘You too, Douglas,’ I say. ‘Richard would be your great-nephew I think?’ I struggle with that stuff.
Douglas looks at his brother. How awful for him to have spent the hundred or more years since his death not certain which of his brothers caused it. He must have his own suspicions though, after all of that time to think it over.
‘You go first,’ he says. ‘They’re your family. I’ll join you afterwards.’
‘My family,’ Isaac echoes Douglas’s words, as if they don’t fit in his mouth because he’s never been able to say them before.
‘Marina, stay here and listen by the door in case anyone comes back? Douglas is with you.’
‘Ready?’ I ask Isaac, and when he nods I lead the way slowly down the steps and across to the coal chute.
‘What if they don’t like me?’ Isaac asks, and my heart breaks a little; he sounds like a small child meeting a family who might decide to adopt him if he’s a really good boy. In a funny way, I guess that’s kind of what he is; he’s hoping that Richard and Jojo will accept him as part of their history, a brand new branch on their family tree.
Up ahead I can see the others waiting for us. Richard and Jojo are sitting on upturned crates, and someone, presumably Artie, has tugged another one over for me to perch on opposite them.
‘Okay?’ I mouth, and they both nod, watching me pensively.
Artie’s face appears momentarily at the coal hatch above. ‘All quiet up here.’
I throw him the thumbs-up and then turn to the Hensons. ‘I’m sorry about what happened upstairs. About Donovan turning up like that.’
‘I can’t believe we’re related to him.’ Jojo shudders.
‘Is Grandad with you now?’ Richard asks, his eyes scanning the space either side of me even though he must know he’s not going to be able to see Isaac.
I take a deep breath. ‘Yes. He is.’
Isaac is here right beside me, and when I turn now to look at him I notice that his clasped hands are shaking.
‘He called me Grandad.’ He’s gazing at Richard, and then he shakes his head slowly. ‘He looks a lot like me,’ he says, then looks at me, vulnerable. ‘What do I say to make them understand, Melody?’
I concentrate on him. ‘Just say whatever’s in your heart, and I’ll repeat it.’ I break off to glance at Richard and Jojo. ‘Is that okay for you guys? Interrupt at any point, Isaac can see and hear you perfectly well.’
I’m glad now that we had the session with Xena earlier in their living room back in Hull, it was kind of like the warm-up act for the main event. They have a rough idea how this is going to work, and they both nod now then wait for me to speak again.
Weird as it may sound, this is familiar territory for me. My family has been passing messages between the living and the dead for a very long time, so this part of my job is the bit where I’m least out of my comfort zone. Granted, I haven’t done it under such odd circumstances before. Somewhere overhead Donovan Scarborough is bulldozing his way around the house looking for me, Leo and Fletch are trying to deflect him for me for their own reasons, and the twins are no doubt scuttling off to let Leo know they’ve trapped us in the cellar. Time is running pretty short.
‘I left this house under the darkest of clouds, even though I was an innocent man,’ Isaac tells them, through me. ‘The last thing I expected was to fall in love, but Priscilla was . . .’ he pauses, trying to think of the word to describe Richard’s Gran. ‘She was beautiful and kind, the loveliest of girls, and I was a selfish man. I couldn’t stop myself.’ He shakes his head. ‘I let her believe that we could have a future together, and then when it came to it I left her on her own. I can’t imagine what she went through raising a child alone back then.’
‘Nanny Cilla,’ Jojo whispers squeezing Richard’s hand at the familiar mention of her Great-Gran.
Isaac studies her face, and then repeats the phrase with something akin to wonder. ‘Nanny Cilla. She’ll always be twenty-three to me.’
‘I couldn’t bear the idea of my shame becoming hers,’ Isaac tells them. ‘She was too good, too soft to bear it.’
‘She never spoke badly of you,’ Richard interjects. ‘But she never told anyone your name, either, so we were never able to trace you.’
‘For the best,’ Isaac says, stoic. ‘As it should be.’
‘I so wish we’d known you,’ Jojo cries suddenly, impassioned and tearful, and her dad gives her shoulders a squeeze.
Isaac nods. ‘So do I.’ He draws closer to his family. ‘Don’t cry, Jojo. You have your Great-Grandma’s pretty eyes, I always hated to see her cry too.’
‘I know I do,’ Jojo says, digging a crumpled tissue out of her shorts pocket. ‘She used to tell me so too.’
‘Was she happy?’ Isaac’s question is shot through with quiet nerves and fear for the only woman he ever loved.
I look towards Richard for an answer.
‘I think she was,’ he says slowly, concentrating. ‘She had her heartaches of course. Losing you, and then Dad too. She bore more than her share of sadness, but my memories of her are all good. She was content in her older years I think, although she never remarried or had any other children after my father.’ He breaks off and takes a moment. ‘She was a brilliant gran. She didn’t have other grandkids, so I was kind of her world after my dad died. She stayed close and I spent much of my time in and out of her house.’
Isaac absorbs the details, and I hope hearing that Priscilla lived a full life is salve for his bruised, battered heart.
‘I want to say sorry,’ Isaac says.
Jojo jumps in, fierce, and not for the first time today she reminds me of Marina. ‘You’ve nothing to apologise for. Leaving must have been the hardest thing you ever had to do, and the bravest.’
Isaac’s smile is tender. ‘Jojo, I fought my way through the war and being accused of murder yet, still, you’re right. Leaving Priscilla and the chance of my own family certainly was the hardest thing I ever had to do.’
Richard stands, and holds his hand out to me. ‘I wish I could shake your hand, Grandad. This is the closest I can think of.’
I do something then that I’ve never in my life done before. I’ve seen Gran do it, and my mother on rare occasions, but it’s always felt far too intimate for me. I turn to Isaac and swallow hard before I speak.
‘Isaac, step into me.’
He frowns, but I shake my head fast. ‘I’m sure. Just do it. Trust me, it’s easier for you than it is for me.’
‘Will you feel anything?’ he asks.
‘I don’t think so. I’ve never done it before. Isaac, I just want you to be able to shake hands with your grandson, okay?’ Tears thicken my throat and I breathe out heavily, as if preparing to run a race.
‘Isaac, please. I want to do this for you.’
Isaac falters, and then finally he moves and steps right into me. Oh. My. God. This is beyond freaky. He looks exactly like a solid, living, breathing man to me, yet he’s just walked into my soul and his body is meshed around mine. I can’t feel him, exactly; there is no sensation of weight or suffocation. But I can sense him, and it’s intense, a sensory overload that I can’t even begin to put into words. I’m me, Melody Bittersweet, but for those fleeting moments, I’m a conduit for Isaac Scarborough as well.