Page 19 of Kindred Spirits at Harling Hall (Ghosts of Rowan Vale #1)

19

A couple of days later, having turned the page on the calendar to June, Immi and I had a meeting with her headmistress at the primary school in nearby Kingsford Wold. It was a much larger village than Rowan Vale, but like our own village, it was a magnet for tourists. I could see how beautiful it was, but I gave thanks that someone had had the foresight to make Rowan Vale practically car free. The traffic here was horrendous. I could only imagine the frustration of the locals as they dodged the endless stream of vehicles and fought for parking space every day.

Luckily, the school had a car park, and Immi and I made it to our appointment in time. The school was surprisingly large, but then it served a few local villages. The headmistress, Mrs Parker, was a tall woman, probably in her fifties, who greeted us with a friendly smile. I took to her immediately and was relieved to see Immi clearly liked her as well.

We chatted for a while about the school’s impressive record and the sort of things they focused on, but Mrs Parker acknowledged that Immi’s stay there would be brief. She was pleased that I’d already applied to get her a place at the local academy in Chipping Royston and was just waiting to hear if she’d been accepted. I didn’t mention that it was Mia who’d arranged all that for me.

‘The Year Six pupils will be making a second visit to the academy in a few weeks. Hopefully, Immi will know if she’s been accepted by then and she’ll get the opportunity to tour the school with the other children,’ she said.

She very kindly informed me that, as there were only seven weeks left in the term, she didn’t expect me to buy Immi the uniform.

‘The children wear navy-blue jumpers and grey skirts or trousers. If you could dress Immi in something similar, that would be sufficient,’ she said. ‘After all, you’ll have a whole new uniform to purchase for her soon enough.’

We had a brief visit to Immi’s new class, where the pupils eyed us both with undisguised curiosity, and the teacher was forced to firmly tell them to settle down and get on with their work. She told Immi that the class was currently doing a project on the Second World War and was delighted when Immi wearily explained that she’d done the same project at her old school last term.

‘You’ll know all about it then,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘You’ll catch up in no time.’

After agreeing that Immi would start the following morning, the two of us left and had a wander around Kingsford Wold, while Immi moaned about having to do her project all over again and I tried to cheer her up by pointing out that she’d be ahead of the rest of the class as she’d already covered the subject thoroughly.

We both agreed Kingsford Wold was stunning, with teashops and pubs galore, and lots of trendy-looking independent shops.

‘It’s not as nice as our village, though, is it, Mum?’ Immi said with some satisfaction.

I smiled at her. ‘You’re settling in okay then?’

She nodded enthusiastically. ‘Love it there. Mia took me to the Swinging Sixties street again. Have you been back there since our school trip?’

I had to admit I hadn’t. I thought I really ought to go and make myself known to everyone there, as well as the Victorian shops on the village green.

Amelia Davies, the vicar, had visited me at the Hall. She was a smiley sort of woman who reminded me a bit of Clara, being friendly and informal. She had gently reminded me that Immi and I would be very welcome at the services at All Souls, and she hoped to see us there.

I couldn’t resist asking her if she’d ever seen a photograph of Silas Alexander. She’d chuckled at that. ‘I have, in the church archives. Angry-looking chap. You’ve met him then? Luckily for me, I can’t see or hear him, which I think is a blessing going by what Lawrie’s told me. Apparently, I’m hardly flavour of the month with our old vicar. Bless him, he must be apoplectic having a female vicar not only in the church but in his old home too.’

‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ I’d asked. ‘Him sharing your home when you can’t even see him?’

She’d shrugged. ‘From everything I’ve heard about him, the pious Reverend Alexander wouldn’t do anything he shouldn’t. I’m sure he avoids the bathroom and my bedroom and that’s all I can ask really, so why should it bother me?’

I thought that if she’d actually seen Silas ranting and raving, she might think differently, but I decided she didn’t need that mental picture.

As new owner of the estate (I still couldn’t believe that!) I knew it was my duty to make myself known to my tenants, so vowed to spend the next few days doing just that.

It occurred to me, however, that it was Immi’s birthday at the end of the week, and I still hadn’t got her a present. While she was buying some sweets in the newsagents, I managed to sneakily pop next door into the gift shop to buy her a birthday card, but though I looked around quickly, I didn’t spot a suitable present and returned to Harling Hall feeling increasingly worried about the situation.

It was Brodie, funnily enough, who solved the problem.

I was sitting at the kitchen table later that afternoon, telling Mia what a terrible mother I was, and wondering if I could fit a shopping trip to Chipping Royston or Much Melton into my day, when he wandered in and, though ostensibly minding his own business as he put the kettle on, was clearly listening to our conversation – intentionally or not.

‘Does Immi like cats?’ he asked suddenly.

I turned to him. ‘Cats?’

‘Yeah. Little furry things with whiskers and pointy ears.’ He grinned. ‘Say miaow a lot.’

‘Funny. What have cats got to do with anything?’

‘It’s just, Nick and Betty have some kittens at the farm they’re looking to rehome. Immi might like one, don’t you think?’

‘A kitten?’ I asked doubtfully.

‘She doesn’t like cats?’ he asked.

‘It’s not that…’ Immi had often said how much she’d love a pet, but I’d always envisioned a dog. Thinking about it, though, I thought a cat might be a better option. Immi would be back at school from tomorrow, and I’d be busy getting to know the villagers and being a full-time ghost wrangler, not to mention ploughing through the Idiot’s Guide to Running a Special Living History Villag e, which Brodie had kindly presented me with earlier that morning, just an hour before Mia had given me my enormous copy of the official documents, which had arrived in the post at last.

‘What’s the problem then?’ Mia asked. ‘Is she allergic?’

‘No… It’s just – these kittens, they’re not feral, are they? I mean, their mum’s not some wild cat that lives out in the barns?’

Brodie shook his head. ‘Far from it. Mitzi’s Betty’s pride and joy, and lives with them in the farmhouse. The kittens are really cute and very tame. They’ve been fussed over by Betty and Nick, not to mention everyone else who works at the farm.’

‘You’ve seen them?’ I asked.

‘Last night, when I went to see Nick about his tractor needing repairs.’

So that’s where he’d been going.

‘His tractor? Do we pay for those then?’ I asked worriedly.

‘It’s all in the Idiot’s Guide , but spoiler alert, yes, we do. Well, sort of. Why don’t you go over to the farm and see the kittens for yourself?’ he asked. ‘It can’t do any harm, can it?’

I hesitated but then figured I had nothing to lose. It would solve everything if I could pick a kitten for Immi’s birthday, and I was fairly sure my daughter would fall in love immediately.

‘Okay,’ I said cheering up. ‘Thanks, Brodie. I’ll do that.’

* * *

With Immi starting school the following morning, we spent the evening making sure she had everything she needed in her school bag. I could only be grateful that ghosts are unable to touch anything. Florrie kept popping in and eyeing up the stationery supplies and everything else that I’d got ready for Immi’s first day, and I had a feeling that if she could have hidden something just to make things difficult, she would have done.

I hadn’t seen Agnes since she’d dragged Florrie out of the study, and I suspected she was rather embarrassed by the whole thing, and probably seething that she’d had to take my side over her daughter’s for once. Manners mattered to Agnes and even she hadn’t been able to turn a blind eye to the youngster rudely interrupting my meeting with Brodie.

Aubrey had popped by the previous evening, just before Immi’s bedtime. We were just finishing mugs of hot chocolate as we watched the final five minutes of one of Immi’s favourite films as a treat when we heard a cough and a male voice saying loudly, ‘Knock, knock.’

We looked at each other and grinned.

‘Come in, Aubrey,’ I called.

He walked straight through the door looking surprised. ‘How did you know it was me?’

‘Wild guess,’ I said. ‘How can I help you?’

‘Oh, I don’t want anything,’ he assured me. He smiled at Immi. ‘Just came to wish you good luck for your first day at school. I’m sure you’ll do splendidly.’

‘Aw, thanks, Mr Wyndham!’ Immi beamed. ‘That’s really nice of you.’

‘Not at all. Agnes said to send you her best wishes too.’

I wondered if that was true. ‘And Florrie?’ As he shuffled a bit, I felt sorry for putting him in such an awkward position. ‘Thank you,’ I said quickly. ‘We appreciate that.’

He looked relieved as he turned back to the door. ‘Well, I’ll be getting off then. Er, enjoy Back to the Future .’ He glanced at the television over his shoulder before frowning. ‘Oh. Two . Ahem.’

As he vanished from our sight, Immi and I stared at each other. ‘How did he know we were watching Back to the Future Part II ?’ I asked in amazement.

She laughed. ‘He’s cool. I really like him. Florrie’s lucky to have him as her dad.’

My amusement died and I ruffled her hair. ‘Pity she doesn’t realise it, eh?’

I waited for her to ask me about her own dad, but again, the question didn’t come. It never did. It was as if Immi had no interest in him whatsoever, and I wondered if I should be glad or sorry about that.

‘Right,’ I said as the final credits rolled. ‘Time for bed, young lady. Early start tomorrow.’

‘Okay, okay. I’m going.’

She put down her empty mug and got to her feet.

‘Are you nervous?’ I asked, sympathetically.

‘Bit,’ she admitted.

I gave her a hug. ‘You’ll be okay,’ I said. ‘I know it’s a hard thing to do, but they’ll love you. How can they not? I love you.’

‘I know you do,’ she said, ‘but you have to really, don’t you? It’s your job.’

‘You’re right. I remember signing the contract.’ I kissed her cheek. ‘Want me to tuck you in?’

‘Mum! I’m nearly eleven, not five. See you in the morning.’

‘I’ll set my alarm,’ I promised her. ‘Sweet dreams.’

* * *

I have no idea what time I’d set my alarm for, but it was supposed to be seven o’clock. By the time I heard the knocking on my bedroom door the following morning, it was almost seven forty-five. I stared at the clock in horrified disbelief and tumbled out of bed, before rushing to the door.

I’d expected to find Mia standing there, but it was Brodie who greeted me by looking me up and down in surprise, blushing to his hair roots, and mumbling something about Mia sending him up to check we were awake and to tell us breakfast was ready.

‘Er, thanks. I’ll wake Immi up,’ I said.

He hurried away and I glanced down, realising I was wearing a tatty old Betty Boop nightshirt that finished well above my knees, that I was in bare feet, and – going by every other day since I could remember – my hair looked like a bird’s nest. Drat.

‘Immi! Immi! You’re going to be late!’

I ran into my daughter’s bedroom and stopped in surprise. She was sitting at her desk carefully checking through her bag once more. She was fully dressed in the clothes I’d hung up on her bedroom door for her, and her hair was neatly tied back in a ponytail.

‘Oh.’ I didn’t know what to say. ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

‘I was just about to,’ she informed me. ‘I thought you were setting your alarm?’

‘I did! Well, I thought I did.’

‘I have to be in registration in an hour,’ she reminded me.

‘I know. I’m so sorry. Mia’s done breakfast.’ Hopefully, that would appease her.

‘You’d better get dressed.’ She picked up her bag. ‘I’ll go downstairs and eat.’

‘You do that. Phew, good job you were awake, right?’

‘You mean, good job Mrs Wyndham woke me,’ she said primly.

‘ What ?’ I couldn’t believe it. ‘Agnes did? Are you sure?’

‘I think I know who woke me up, Mum,’ she said patiently. ‘She was standing by my bed saying my name and telling me it was time to get up. Seven o’clock on the dot.’

‘Oh, right.’ I wasn’t sure what to make of that. Agnes had done me a favour and it felt weird. ‘Well, she could have woken me up too.’

Immi gave me one of her stares and I said feebly, ‘I’ll get dressed.’

By the time I was ready to go, Immi had eaten her breakfast, been fussed over by Lawrie, Brodie and Mia, and was waiting patiently in the hallway with her school bag over her shoulder.

‘I haven’t even had coffee yet,’ I grumbled.

‘Mum, it’s ten past eight and I have to be in registration by quarter to nine,’ she chided me.

‘I know, I know.’ I grabbed the car keys just as Brodie entered the hallway.

‘I can take her if you like,’ he offered.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Why?’

‘Well,’ he said with a shrug, ‘you’re obviously running late, and you haven’t even had breakfast, so?—’

‘That doesn’t matter. It’s her first day. I’ll take her,’ I said, wondering what they must all be thinking of me. ‘But… thanks,’ I added, as an afterthought. ‘It was nice of you to offer.’

‘No problem. Good luck, Immi.’

‘Thanks, Brodie.’

As we walked towards the front door, she called up the stairs without looking in that direction, ‘See you later, Florrie.’

I whipped round just in time to see a scowling Florrie pull back out of sight behind the bannister.

Grinning, I followed my daughter to the car.