Authors: Dilly Court
‘It’s disrespectful,’ Effie murmured, swallowing a sob. ‘He looks like a sack of coal.’
‘It can’t be helped,’ Toby said with a sympathetic smile. ‘It’s not very dignified but I can’t see any other way.’ Before Effie had a chance to protest he tossed her onto the saddle and vaulted up behind her. With Champion’s halter in his hand, Toby urged his mount forward. ‘We need to get away before the police start asking awkward questions. Tom told me that Salter was out for revenge, so we haven’t much time to lose.’
‘Where are we going?’ Effie demanded. ‘We should take Mr Grey to an undertaker.’
‘Not a chance,’ Toby said, shaking his head. ‘Stop worrying, and leave it to me. I’ve got a lot to make up for. Hold your breath, Effie; we’re going through the smoke.’
An hour later the small procession was wending its way across Hackney Marsh with Toby and Effie at its head. Champion plodded along behind them with Jacob’s body wrapped in an old bed sheet purchased from Mrs Hoskins. With Jim’s help, Toby had draped the corpse over the saddle, securing it with a length of rope. Effie protested that it made the dead man look like a bundle of dirty washing, but the only response she received was a sympathetic grunt from Toby and Jim had urged them to be on their way before Salter arrived with the police. They had set off immediately with Tom and Georgie bringing up the rear.
‘I can guess where you’re taking us,’ Effie said as they headed deeper into the marshes. ‘I don’t want to go back there, Toby.’
His arms tightened almost imperceptibly around her waist. ‘We’ve no choice. The police would have no reason to look for us at Marsh House, and where else could we turn up with a dead man in tow and the police on our tail?’
Put like that there was little that Effie
could say. ‘I suppose we must, but I won’t stay a moment longer than necessary.’
‘I don’t understand why you ran away in the first place. Did you fall out with Nellie?’
‘You promised to return,’ Effie said bitterly. ‘You said you would find Tom and bring him to me.’
‘I did find him and I left him with Jim while I went about my business.’
‘But you knew that I was worried sick. Why didn’t you bring him straight to me?’
‘I had the chance of a deal that was too good to miss, and then I heard that my grandmother had died. She was the last of my Romany family and I had to go to her funeral. I owed her that at least.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Effie murmured. ‘Her medicine made Georgie well again, and I never had the chance to thank her.’
Toby was silent for a moment and Effie felt his muscles tense as he struggled with his emotions. Until now she had thought him superficial and incapable of deep feeling, and his genuine grief came as a surprise. He cleared his throat as if embarrassed to admit that he was mourning the death of his grandmother. ‘You haven’t answered my question,’ he said with an obvious attempt at bringing the conversation back to safer ground. ‘Why did you leave Marsh House in such a hurry?’
‘It was Mr Westlake. Nellie made me wait on him. I think she knew what would happen.’
‘Seymour is a drunkard and his mind wanders, but I can’t believe he would do anything to harm you.’
‘You know very well that he tried to get into bed with me. He thought I was Mirella.’
‘I told Nellie to take care of you and make certain that he was locked in his room at night.’
‘She did neither of those things. She made me take food to his room. Sometimes he was quite sensible and at other times when he was obviously under the influence of that terrible drug he thought I was Mirella. I don’t think he’s a wicked man, Toby, but he is confused and very unhappy.’
‘I don’t know why.’ Toby’s voice throbbed with suppressed anger. ‘He has the manor house and more money than he could spend in a lifetime. He was quick enough to throw me out when my mother died.’
‘Do you really not know, or don’t you want to admit the truth?’
‘What truth? You’re rambling, girl. It must be the shock of what’s just happened.’
‘I’m perfectly clear in my head. I think that Mr Westlake and Mirella were lovers and that he is your father.’
‘That’s nonsense. My father was a gardener
who was sent packing as soon as the master found out that my mother was in the family way.’
‘I don’t know much about these matters,’ Effie said, choosing her words carefully. ‘But it was said in the workhouse that the woman always suffered in such circumstances. She was the one who was sent off without a character and left to fend for herself and her child, not the man.’
‘What are you saying? What has that to do with my mother?’
‘She was allowed to stay on at Marsh House after you were born, and you were both treated well. She was close to Mr Westlake after his wife died and she nursed him through the illness that scarred him for life. I believe that he’s never got over her death.’
‘If that was so, why did he send me away after Ma died?’
‘I don’t know, but maybe he was ashamed to have fathered you out of wedlock, or perhaps the mere sight of you reminded him of the love he had lost.’
‘That is all supposition on your part, Effie. He is nothing to me.’
‘And yet you return to Marsh House again and again. Why do you do that, Toby? What draws you to that sad and lonely place?’
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘What
a wonderful imagination you have, Effie. You could write stories for magazines and get paid for your flights of fancy.’
‘What’s the joke?’ Tom called from behind them. ‘Are we nearly there yet? I’m blooming starving and so is Georgie.’
‘It won’t be long now,’ Toby shouted, digging his heels into the horse’s flanks. ‘Trot on.’
It was raining by the time they reached Marsh House. A mist had crept over the marshes, blotting out the horizon, and the rain sizzled and steamed as it hit the dried mud on the track. It was a bleak sight that met their eyes and an even gloomier welcome as they rode into the stable yard. Jeffries hobbled out of the tack room. ‘I thought we’d got rid of you for good,’ he said, addressing Toby as he lifted Effie from the saddle.
‘It’s nice to see you again too, old man,’ Toby said cheerfully. ‘Take the horses and give them a rub down.’ He moved swiftly to take Champion’s halter. ‘Except this one. I’ll see to him.’
‘What’s that you’ve got there?’ Jeffries demanded, squinting short-sightedly at the bundle on Champion’s back. The outline of a body was clearly visible beneath the wet calico. ‘What’ve you got there, master?’
Toby turned to Effie. ‘Take the boys into the house. We’ll see to everything out here.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I know where there is a patch of soft ground. He’ll lie easily there.’
‘You can’t just plant him like a tree. We must say some prayers and give him a decent burial.’
‘All right. Anything you like, but go indoors and get out of those wet clothes.’
‘What shall I tell Nellie?’
‘Tell her the truth. You can trust her to keep her mouth shut.’ Toby turned to Jeffries who was standing in the pouring rain, gaping at the ill-disguised cadaver. ‘See to the horses first, Jeffries, and then we’ll need shovels and spades.’
A shout from Tom brought Effie to her senses and she took Georgie from his arms. ‘Come with me, Tom,’ she said, heading for the scullery door.
‘What is this place?’ he said, hurrying after her. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘It’s the saddest house in the world.’ Effie thrust the door open and stepped inside. ‘And I hoped never to see it again.’
In the kitchen, Nellie was seated in her usual chair by the fire. She looked up, taking in their bedraggled state with a resigned sigh. ‘So you’ve come back. I thought we’d seen the last of you, Effie Grey.’
‘I’m sorry for leaving without telling you,’ Effie began, but Nellie raised her hand.
‘I don’t want to know the details. You’re here now and I suppose it was young Toby who brought you. That boy turns up like a bad penny.’ She glared at Tom. ‘And that must be the brother you kept on about. He looks old enough to take care of hisself.’
Tom shook the rain from his hair and wiped his sleeve across his wet face. ‘You was good to my sister, missis. I thank you for that, and we’re only passing through. We won’t trouble you for long.’
Nellie rose to her feet. ‘Ho, it speaks. Well, I like the cut of your jib, boy. You don’t look like one of the rapscallions that torment old folks and steal the food from under their noses.’
‘I should think not,’ Effie said indignantly. ‘Tom is a good boy and he’s been brought up to respect his elders.’
‘Hoity-toity as usual,’ Nellie muttered. ‘Nothing’s changed. Anyway, best get out of them wet things. Give me the baby and I’ll look after him while you go upstairs to change. Your room is just as you left it and Mirella’s old clothes are still in the chest of drawers.’
Effie held on to Georgie, shaking her head. ‘It’s all right, thank you, Nellie. I can manage.’
‘But you haven’t brought any clothes for
the poor little mite, I can see that. I’ve still got some of Bertie’s things in my trunk. I hadn’t the heart to throw them out and now they’ll come in useful again. You really should take better care of him, missis. He’s a poppet.’
As if responding to this flattery, Georgie held his arms out to Nellie.
‘See,’ Nellie said triumphantly. ‘He remembers me.’ She prised him from his mother’s arms, hugging him to her flat breast. ‘Who’s a lovely little fellow then? Who is Nellie’s best boy?’
Georgie tugged at her mobcap, pulling it down over one eye. ‘Hungry,’ he said.
Nellie set him down on her chair. ‘And you shall have some of Nellie’s freshly baked bread with lots of butter and some strawberry jam. There was a good crop this year even though the plants are choked with weeds.’ She turned to Effie and Tom who were staring at her as if in a trance. ‘I daresay I can find some of Bertie’s old clothes for you, young man. I kept everything of his in the hope that he would return one day with his nippers, but it never came about. Wait here a minute.’ She left them staring after her as she hurried into the room, which was little more than a cupboard, where she slept and stored her possessions. She returned almost immediately with an armful of garments which she thrust at Effie. ‘They’re
a bit moth-eaten and shabby, but they’re dry and I’m sure you’ll find something there to fit the boy. I’ll see to little Georgie.’
‘You’re very kind,’ Effie murmured. ‘I’ll go and change, but what about the master? Is he well?’ She did not know how else to put such a delicate question, but Nellie seemed to understand her meaning.
‘He’s been better, but he’s had to do without his smoke. The excise men caught up with them as they smuggled the stuff upriver. He went through a bad patch, but he’s getting over it. He won’t bother you.’
Leaving Georgie with Nellie, Effie led Tom through the house to the staircase. He paused, looking round him in awe. ‘What a place, Effie. I’d no idea you’d been living in a mansion.’
She mounted the stairs. ‘I cleaned every room in this place, but I couldn’t wait to get away from here.’
Tom followed her, stopping to stare at the portraits and then taking two steps at a time in order to catch up with her. ‘I wouldn’t say no to having a house like this. It’s really grand and I bet it’s haunted.’
‘I think the ghosts are more like memories from the past, and they’re not happy ones.’ Effie hurried past Mr Westlake’s room and breathed a sigh of relief when she opened the door of her old bedchamber. Her clothes
clung damply to her body and she shivered although the room was warm. While Tom rifled through the pile of old clothes, Effie went to the chest of drawers and selected a blouse and skirt that had belonged to Mirella. Toby might choose to deny the past, but it was obvious to Effie that the illicit love affair between the master and his gypsy maidservant had been both intense and long lasting. Separated by death, Mr Westlake was in love with her ghost. Reluctantly, Effie changed out of her wet clothes and dressed in Mirella’s faded finery.
Tom had found a pair of breeches and a shirt that were worn and patched but fitted reasonably well. He wrinkled his nose. ‘They stink of lavender,’ he grumbled. ‘And they itch.’
Effie opened the door. ‘Never mind that now. I’ll see to our laundry when I’ve got a moment. Come on, Tom. I don’t want to leave Georgie alone with Nellie for long. She gets funny ideas and convinces herself that he’s her long lost Bertie.’
‘This is a madhouse,’ Tom muttered, following her out onto the landing. ‘But I wouldn’t mind stopping here for a while. I might see the ghost.’
Effie came to a sudden halt as Mr Westlake’s door opened and he emerged, resplendent in
his crimson and gold robes with a tasselled velvet cap on his head and his long, dark hair flowing around his shoulders. ‘Mirella, my darling. You’ve come back to me.’
EFFIE STOOD HER
ground, determined to put matters right there and then. She faced up to Seymour, looking him in the eye with an unflinching gaze. ‘I am not Mirella. I am Effie Grey.’
His smile faded. ‘Effie Grey,’ he repeated dazedly. ‘Do I know you?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ve been here before and you made the same mistake then. I am not the person you think I am.’
‘What’s going on, Effie?’ Tom demanded, clutching her arm. ‘Who is this old cove?’
‘This is Mr Westlake. He owns Marsh House and he mistook me for a lady he knew a long time ago.’
‘You are not Mirella,’ Seymour said, frowning. ‘I know that now.’ His face crumpled and he bowed his head. ‘She was taken from me.’
Casting a warning glance at Tom, Effie moved swiftly to Seymour’s side. She took him by the arm and led him back to his room. ‘Sit down, sir,’ she said, helping him to a chair.
‘Mirella died years ago, but her son lives and he is here now.’
‘Her son?’
‘Your son too, I think,’ Effie said gently. ‘Will you see him, Mr Westlake? Will you tell him the truth about his birth? As I see it, you are both alone in the world which is madness when you have each other.’
‘My son?’ Seymour raised his head. ‘I did have a son, but he went away a long time ago.’
‘You sent him away when he was just a boy, but something draws him back to Marsh House. I beg you to see him, sir.’