Page 27 of Christmas Spirits at Honeywell House (Ghosts of Rowan Vale #3)
AUbrEY
Having finished telling Florence, John and Robert, plus an enthralled Walter Tasker, about life in Victorian England, Aubrey headed into the suite of rooms he occupied with his family to tell Agnes all about the lesson, only to discover that she wasn’t there.
Disappointed, he went back onto the landing, which was when the sound of beautiful voices singing Christmas carols drifted up the stairs towards him. He guessed that Agnes was with Lawrie, enjoying a musical interlude as they sometimes did.
He thought to join them but then changed his mind. He knew how much they valued the time they spent together, and he didn’t want to disturb them. Perhaps he would go for a stroll in the garden instead.
He left the Hall through the front door.
He’d initially intended to make a circuit of the gardens, but gazing out of the drawing room window while he considered what to do, his attention had been caught by a crowd of people at the end of the drive, who were peering through the gates.
Some of them had those pocket telephones that Callie and Brodie seemed so reliant upon and seemed to be using them to take photographs of the house.
It still struck him as incredible that one could carry in one’s pocket a small device that served as both a telephone and a camera. Technology was a marvellous thing.
He’d made up his mind to walk up the front drive instead. Perhaps he could get a good look at the devices and see how they worked.
‘Tourists,’ he said, shaking his head as he arrived at the gates.
Even on this drab December day the village was full of them.
Then again, it would be. The market was in full swing, and with the fairy lights and the beautiful Christmas trees dotted around the village it was bound to attract visitors.
He glanced back at the house, feeling wistful. He would so love to see Rowan Vale in all its festive glory, but he’d promised Agnes. She would be so hurt if he went against her wishes.
He couldn’t help feeling resentful towards the Reverend Alexander. Why did that man have to make so much fuss about their living arrangements? What business was it of his anyway?
As the thought entered his head, Aubrey straightened.
Maybe, just maybe, it was time that he gave Silas a piece of his mind.
Stood up to him. His mother and Elspeth had repeatedly told him he was pathetic and weak, and perhaps in some ways he was, but dash it all, there was a limit to how many times one could turn the other cheek.
He was sick and tired of having to stay within the grounds of the Hall, and he was sure that, deep down, Agnes was too.
How wonderful it would be if he could reason with the crotchety old vicar and get him to see sense!
He could tell Agnes her worries were over, and together they could venture into Rowan Vale with their heads held high at long last.
He nibbled at his thumbnail, uncertain what to do.
He had given Agnes his word, and he didn’t like to even consider breaking it.
But surely, if this was for the greater good, it didn’t count?
If he could improve their afterlives by taking matters into his own hands, it had to be the right thing to do, didn’t it?
He thought of Florence, her thin arms wrapped around his own, begging him to come into the village with her, then her matter-of-fact statement that she hadn’t bothered to tell him she was taking part in A Christmas Carol because she already knew her parents wouldn’t see it.
That bitter memory made up his mind. He longed to be a proper father to her, in a way he’d never been allowed to be with James.
He wanted – needed – Florence to love and respect him in a way his son never had. That meant showing her that, sometimes, one had to have the courage of one’s convictions and stand up for what was right.
Besides, after his rather embarrassing lack of self-control last Friday, when he’d let his passions run away with him, he felt he had to do something to win back Agnes’s respect.
She hadn’t referred to the incident since, for which he was profoundly grateful, but he was sure that he’d shocked her.
The way she’d pulled away from him and rushed to her room was evidence that he’d deeply disappointed her, and he felt honour-bound to put things right somehow.
Dealing with the Silas problem would surely win her over?
Without allowing himself time to change his mind, Aubrey strode purposefully through the gates, past the crowds, and headed along the street towards the church.
He wasn’t sure if he would find Silas in the vicarage or All Souls itself, but either way he was determined to seek him out.
Now he’d made his bolt for freedom he couldn’t let it be in vain.
When he told Agnes what he’d done – because, of course, he would have to upon his return – he needed to be able to assure her that his act of rebellion hadn’t been for nothing.
He tried to dismiss the nerves that suddenly attacked him at the thought of Agnes’s reaction.
He really didn’t want to hurt her or trigger another panic attack.
When he saw her eyes widen in fear and her whole body start to shake, it made him feel quite ill.
He hated the thought of her being distressed in any way.
He would have to be extremely careful when he broke the news to her.
He just prayed Silas Alexander would be reasonable, otherwise he would have to tell Agnes that he’d failed, and the thought of seeing disappointment in her eyes was unbearable.
To distract himself from such dismal thoughts, he concentrated on enjoying the freedom of being out in the village again. Above him, fairy lights twinkled against the darkening sky. Little pieces of Christmas to gladden any heart.
He could hear music in the distance – if he wasn’t mistaken, they were playing ‘Good King Wenceslas’.
Smiling to himself, he began to hum along.
Maybe, if all went well with Silas, he could pop to the village green for ten minutes or so, just to have a quick look at the market and see how everything was going.
He shouldn’t really, but in for a penny and all that.
Across the road, he noticed a small child skipping along the pavement, hand in hand with a dark-haired man.
Behind them an older child dawdled, absorbed in what appeared to be a similar device to the pocket telephone, but larger.
Both boys had bright red hair, and the younger one was chattering ten to the dozen.
The man turned round and yelled, ‘Come on, Declan! Put the game down until you get home or I’ll tell your mother.’
Aubrey shook his head, smiling. Then he frowned.
The man looked familiar. Wasn’t that Jack Milsom?
He knew him because he’d sometimes come to Harling Hall to drive Lawrie into town if Brodie couldn’t.
In fact, Aubrey was almost certain that it was Jack who’d brought Callie and Immi to Harling Hall on the day they moved in.
Ah, it was Jack! Nice chap. Engine driver by profession. Aubrey hadn’t even realised he’d got married, but those must be his sons, so hopefully he had.
The village Christmas tree loomed up before him, and he stared at it in wonder.
It looked utterly beautiful, with its twinkling lights and a variety of baubles that seemed quite enchanting to him.
He wondered who’d decorated it, and thought it was about time that the Christmas tree was put up at Harling Hall.
It was overdue. He’d have to remind Callie about that when he got home.
His steps slowed as he made his way to the lychgate of All Souls, bracing himself for a confrontation with Silas. He just hoped he was in there. It would be too much if he’d sneaked out of the Hall and then couldn’t find the vicar!
Casually, he glanced over at Jack and the boys again and stared in astonishment as the youngest hesitantly waved at him.
Aubrey turned around to see if anyone was coming down the path of the church, because surely the child was waving at someone else, but there was no one else there.
Astonished, and feeling a little foolish, Aubrey waved back, and the boy beamed in return. Before Aubrey could gather his thoughts, Jack had led him round the corner, momentarily out of sight.
Aubrey shook his head, dazed. He must be imagining things.
There was no reason that this child would be able to see him.
Unless… Good heavens, supposing the boy had the gift?
All that panic about finding a replacement for Lawrie, and all the time there’d been a youngster in the village who could see ghosts!
Well, it was too late now. Callie was in place and that was that, and a splendid job she was doing. Even so, it seemed a shame, given the child was a local.
‘Well, I’ll go to the foot of our stairs!’
Aubrey jumped, startled, as a hand rested on his arm.
‘Aubrey Wyndham as I live and – well – don’t breathe!’ There was a chuckle and Aubrey relaxed slightly as he recognised one of the village ghosts. With her dark hair and cotton dress, she had always struck him as a kindly, attractive young woman.
‘Mrs Herron,’ he said politely. ‘How lovely to see you.’
‘Polly, love,’ she reminded him. ‘Mrs Herron was my mother-in-law, thanks very much. Fancy seeing you out and about! We’d given up on ever clapping eyes on you again. Why have you been hiding yourself away?’
‘Hardly hiding, Polly,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘But you know how it is.’
‘I do, love. It’s that vicar, isn’t it? The things he said to you both!
Shocking, I call it. But you don’t want to take any notice.
None of us do, you know. And between you and me, his bark’s worse than his bite.
Fancy me saying that, eh?’ She let out a peal of laughter as Aubrey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
‘I never thought I’d say it either, but let’s just say he’s done a very good turn for my family recently, and I don’t think he’s all bad.
There’s a kernel of humanity in there, and if I were you, I’d let whatever he says about you and Agnes wash over you.
Not worth getting upset about, if you ask me. ’
‘No, well… As a matter of fact, I’m just on my way to see Reverend Alexander. I think this situation has gone on long enough, and it’s time to put a stop to it.’
‘Ooh, really? Well, good for you. Do you want me to come with you? I could be one of them whatchamacallits. Mediators. What do you say?’
‘Thank you very much, Polly, that’s terribly kind of you, but I really don’t think it will be necessary. This is between Silas and me, and I must deal with it in my own way.’
He noticed the faintest trace of disappointment in her green eyes, but she nodded and patted his shoulder firmly.
‘Well, I hope it all goes well then. I’ll expect to see you and Agnes out and about in the village very soon.
We’ve all got a lot of catching up to do, and I know there are loads of ghosts dying to see you.
’ She burst out laughing. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’
He smiled at her little joke and nodded, wondering what more today was going to throw at him.
‘I’ll see you later, love. Good luck,’ Polly said, then added, ‘and if it doesn’t go well and I don’t see you again for who knows how long, well, a merry Christmas to you and yours.’
‘Thank you, Polly. A merry Christmas to you, too.’
As she hurried off, Aubrey gazed after her.
It was the first time someone outside Harling Hall had wished him a merry Christmas in years, and it had given him a warm feeling inside.
With ‘Good King Wenceslas’ replaced by ‘Hark! The Herald Angels Sing’, the buzz of conversation drifting over from the market, and the sweet expression on that little boy’s face, he felt a sudden determination that he wasn’t going to have this taken away from him again.
He wanted this afterlife. Not just for himself, but for Agnes and Florence, too. He wanted them to enjoy themselves as a family, mixing with the other villagers, and joining in with celebrations such as Christmas and the 1940s weekend that he’d longed to go to, but had missed.
‘Damn Silas Alexander,’ he said. ‘I won’t put up with this a moment longer. I simply won’t.’
He walked through the lychgate and up the path towards the church. He wasn’t going to return to Harling Hall until he’d got the result he wanted.