Page 33 of Kindred Spirits at Harling Hall (Ghosts of Rowan Vale #1)

33

Brodie was in the study. I tapped on the door and entered the room without waiting for a reply. A quick glance at the desk told me he was filling in more job applications. He gave me a rueful smile and reminded me that this was my house, and I didn’t have to knock.

When I didn’t contradict him as I usually did, he pushed the papers away and leaned towards me as I sat facing him from the other side of the desk.

‘Okay, what’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘I know that look. What catastrophe’s occurred now?’

Briefly, I told him about our cinema trip and how Florrie had reacted to the film.

‘Poor little thing,’ he said when I finished. ‘Where is she now?’

‘Immi’s invited her to her room,’ I said. ‘They’re bonding over the kitten.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s promising.’

I nodded. ‘If you’d just seen her, Brodie. If you’d heard her. Mia told me she wasn’t as bad as everyone thought, and I can see that for myself now. Mia’s right. She’s lost. She feels abandoned. It’s horrible, especially when I know I can take some of that pain away from her.’

‘You mean, let Mia tell her the truth?’

I nodded. ‘Exactly.’

‘But you know what Grandpa said. Agnes?—’

‘This isn’t about Agnes,’ I told him. ‘And I’m sorry but it isn’t about Lawrie either. This is about a little girl who was separated from her family and died believing they didn’t care about her. She deserves to know that’s not true.’

‘You’re really going to do this then?’ Brodie tapped his pen on the desk, a worried expression on his face. ‘You’re going to tackle Agnes?’

‘You think I’m wrong?’

He considered for a moment then shook his head. ‘No. I’d do the same in your position. One thing, though, Callie. Remember what I said before. Mother to mother. Don’t go charging in there all guns blazing. You need to get Agnes onside, and once that’s done, Grandpa won’t stand in your way.’

I nodded. ‘Okay. Wish me luck.’

‘Want me to come with you?’

‘There wouldn’t be much point, would there? You can’t see or hear her.’

‘But I can hold your hand. Moral support,’ he added hastily.

I managed a smile. ‘Thanks, Brodie. I’ll do this myself. You get on with…’ I nodded at the applications, my heart sinking as I realised any one of those could result in him receiving an offer of a job. ‘With those,’ I finished lamely.

I found Aubrey first and he enquired how the cinema trip went and where Florrie had got to.

When I told him she and Immi were playing with the kitten, his face lit up.

‘Really? A breakthrough at last! Splendid. Agnes will be… Er, she’ll be pleased, I’m sure.’

‘Where is Agnes?’ I asked him. ‘I’d really like to talk to her.’

His brow furrowed. ‘Is everything all right?’

I hesitated. I’d planned to talk to Agnes alone, but thinking about it, that wouldn’t be fair. It seemed to me that Aubrey had been pushed out of too many decisions in this house, and he was, after all, as much Florrie’s father as Agnes was her mother.

‘Actually, Aubrey, no it isn’t. I wonder if I could have a word with you. With both of you.’

‘Of course. Of course.’ He looked deeply worried but was ever the gentleman. ‘I believe she’s in the schoolroom.’

‘The schoolroom?’

He cleared his throat. ‘She, er, wanted to see what sort of things Florence is learning.’

Of course she did. Still, I was the same with Immi so I couldn’t blame her for that. Aubrey led me to the schoolroom, where Agnes was sitting at one of the desks studying what Immi had written on the blackboard.

‘Mr Wyndham, I was just— oh! Callie!’ She looked rather discomfited to see me. ‘I was just, er, looking at Immi’s handiwork,’ she said, waving a hand at the board. ‘Very good. Beautiful handwriting. Not easy to write on that thing, I should imagine.’

‘Agnes, dear, Callie has something she’d like to talk to us both about,’ Aubrey said, sitting beside her.

‘If this is about Florence’s behaviour, I don’t want to hear it,’ Agnes said firmly. ‘The lessons have only just started. If Walter Tasker can’t deal with her then?—’

‘I do need to talk to you about Florence,’ I said. ‘And about Mia.’

Agnes’s hand flew to her chest. ‘What… what about Mia?’

Aubrey frowned. ‘Yes, what about Mia?’

He looked completely baffled. It suddenly dawned on me that he was in the dark about the agreement Agnes and Lawrie had made with Mia. Poor Aubrey.

‘Do you want to tell him or shall I?’ I asked her.

‘Tell me what?’ Aubrey turned to Agnes. ‘Tell me what?’

‘I did it for the best, Mr Wyndham,’ she spluttered. ‘And Lawrie agreed with me. Oh, yes, he did! We both thought it would only upset her, and she’d already been through so much.’

‘My dear, what on earth are you talking about?’ he asked.

Agnes, though, seemed unable to speak. She gave me a beseeching look, and I realised she simply couldn’t find the words to tell Aubrey the truth.

‘Okay. I’ll tell you,’ I said. ‘Mia is Florrie’s great-niece. The granddaughter of Florrie’s baby sister, Janet.’

Aubrey’s mouth dropped open.

‘I’m sorry but it’s true. Mia came here after Janet died five years ago, looking for information on Florrie. Lawrie was very helpful at first, but when Mia spotted Florrie running down the hallway, things got a bit complicated. Right, Agnes?’

He shook his head, dazed. ‘Is this true?’ he asked her.

‘Lawrie told me what had happened,’ Agnes said shakily. ‘He said Mia wanted to meet Florence. I told him it was out of the question. The past is the past! Well,’ she demanded suddenly, ‘isn’t it? Why rake it up again? You know how Florence feels about Janet. She wouldn’t want to meet any descendant of hers anyway.’

‘That’s not our decision to make, Agnes,’ Aubrey said firmly. ‘It’s Florence’s.’

‘But Mr Wyndham,’ she pleaded, ‘think about it! We’ve given her a good afterlife here. We’ve been mother and father to her. We’ve taken care of her for a lot longer than those people did. What good would it do to remind Florence of her past? Of those people? Of that dreadful time? I did what I did for the best. For Florence’s sake.’

‘Except it’s not for the best,’ I said gently. ‘Not for Florence.’

‘What would you know about it?’ she demanded. ‘You don’t know her like I do!’

‘Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think you do,’ I said. ‘I had a chat with Florence earlier this evening. It was quite an eye-opener.’

As kindly as I could manage, I told them exactly what Florrie had told Immi and me as she’d crouched by that gate, a pathetic little figure so determined not to cry in front of us or show us how deeply hurt she truly was.

‘I… I didn’t know,’ Agnes whispered. ‘She never said. Never gave any indication. I didn’t know, Mr Wyndham, I swear it.’

‘Perhaps so,’ he said, ‘but the fact is, we know now. So, what are we going to do about it, eh?’

‘But if Mia tells her the truth, if Florence finds out they’re related…’ Agnes stifled a sob. ‘She’ll leave us, Mr Wyndham. You do understand that? She’ll see Mia as her family, and she’ll forget all about us.’

‘She can hardly leave,’ I pointed out. ‘Harling Hall will always be her home, no matter what.’

‘But it won’t be the same,’ Agnes pleaded. ‘She’ll look to Mia as a mother figure. She’ll turn to her for comfort and love. I’ll be… no one.’

Aubrey lifted his chin determinedly, though I saw the doubt and anxiety in his eyes. ‘Nevertheless, we must do the right thing. Florence has a right to the truth. We must be brave, Agnes. It’s the only decent and honourable course of action.’ He nodded at me. ‘You may tell Mia that she’s free to discuss the matter with Florence.’

As Agnes gave a strangled sob, he sighed. ‘If you’d only told me from the beginning,’ he chided her gently.

‘Do you hate me, Mr Wyndham?’ she asked in a pathetic voice that didn’t sound like Agnes at all.

His eyes widened for a moment, then he clasped her hand tightly. ‘Never. I could never hate you, my dear. Why on earth would you think such a thing?’

I left them to it. Something told me they had a lot to talk about, and besides, I had to find Mia.