Page 20 of The Peculiar Incident at Thistlewick House

Carl survived the night but remained terribly unwell and the doctor advised that his recovery would take some time.

The seizures had subsided but he was still in a lot of pain, and no one could guarantee he wouldn’t suffer permanent nerve damage.

Edward was now beginning to wonder if he’d been sent the poison because he’d given credibility to the spirit possessions.

In his séance, he’d fraudulently claimed to have contacted Emma and confirmed that her body had been taken over by Esfir.

Anyone present could have passed this information on to others in the village.

The vicar would certainly be angry that Edward had given credence to such nonsense, but he liked to think a man of God wouldn’t send him a poison gift basket in retaliation.

He decided to visit Emma’s graveside, desperate to feel something, and still hoping that if anyone would reach out to him from the Other Side, it would be her.

He remained unsettled after witnessing the peculiar incident with Noah.

Perhaps a part of him also wanted to defy those who would see him scared after the threat to his life.

Barnabas had been drinking heavily when Edward had retired the previous night. An empty brandy decanter stood on the sideboard and there was still no sign of him by mid-morning, so he asked the housekeeper to notify his cousin that he would return for a late luncheon and set off for the village.

The parish church was further inland, clustered together with the schoolrooms and village hall, and the walk was pleasant, the weather dry.

There would be no headstone on Emma’s grave for months, to allow the soil to settle, but he noticed that someone had arranged a pretty border of pebbles and shells to mark the burial.

Nearby, he could see a hole had already been dug for Silas.

The coroner had probably never been so busy, but had recorded a verdict of accidental death, and Edward understood the funeral was imminent.

Perhaps he should have spoken up at the inquest but, yet again, doubted that an other-worldly possession by a murderous spirit could be cited on the certificate.

The Reverend Fallow spotted him as he knelt down to be closer to Emma’s mortal remains, seriously wondering if her soul was now free and he could connect with it somehow.

The reverend couldn’t be much older than Edward but had gone prematurely bald, so that he had a half-circle of curly chestnut brown hair that ran from one ear to the other, around the back of his head.

They’d met briefly at the funeral and he’d come across as somewhat of a zealot, but then Lord Felthorpe, and no doubt his father before him, would have taken the selection of the parish priest seriously.

‘Good morning, Mr Blackmore. Might I enquire what you’re doing in my churchyard, when you’re a follower of a somewhat alarming movement that is at odds with everything I teach?

’ His tone was polite enough but Edward sensed his animosity and understood it perfectly.

The church saw spiritualism as a harmful practice – which was how he viewed religion, so he didn’t much care.

‘I’m not here to corrupt your flock or perform any unsavoury rituals,’ he reassured the vicar.

‘I’m pleased to hear it, because one of the reasons I took the Thistlewick Tye living eleven years ago was the reputation of its sincere and devoted congregation.’

‘Even if you do view me with suspicion, please understand I’m only trying to help my cousin understand more fully what happened to his wife.’ He nodded to the mound by his feet. ‘He believes she was possessed of some demon spirit,’ he ventured.

‘Indeed, for it’s come to my attention that you performed a séance at Thistlewick House and I was most disappointed that the doctor and Lord Felthorpe saw fit to attend.

Our misguided Catholic cousins give such things more credence.

Mrs Shaw was likely suffering from some form of hysteria – something women are sadly prone to.

I tried to deliver pastoral care but she was quite lost to her own mind.

So, I don’t believe you contacted her spirit for one moment and would ask you not to feed my parishioners such hogwash.

They are godly people.’ He paused. ‘When exactly will you be returning to London, Mr Blackmore?’

Edward decided to give this stuffy man something to stick in his pipe.

‘I may yet decide to remain permanently in the village, as my cousin is currently in the process of signing Thistlewick House over to me.’

The vicar pressed his lips tightly together and his nostrils flared.

‘Yes, this was mentioned at our committee meeting yesterday. But I’m not convinced you’ll fit in around here. We’re a quiet village, not given to drama or theatrics.’

Edward had to laugh. ‘There’s been more drama in the few days that I’ve been here than in a month back home: a dangerously ill woman claiming to be a reincarnated little girl; the poisoning of my servant by persons unknown; and a man falling to his death from the cliff.

I hate to think what you consider real mayhem. ’

‘Ah, poor Noah Garrod. I spoke to him only moments ago. The unexpected death of his brother has affected him badly and he’s not himself…’

Again, Edward wanted to laugh. The vicar had no idea how accurate his words might be, but if the man was nearby, it would be a good opportunity to speak to him about the incident.

‘Which direction was he heading?’

‘Towards the woods, but I—’

Time was of the essence if he was to intercept him, so Edward made his excuses and headed that way.

Once he reached the common, he saw Banjo racing away from the Sailmaker’s, clearly having just escaped the yard again.

His tail was wagging and he hared towards Noah – one of his favourite people – who was striding across the grass in the direction of the woods.

But as he got near, the dog stopped short and began barking, sensing something was wrong.

He arched his back and bared his teeth, forcing the youngest Garrod brother to stop, and enabling Edward to catch up with him.

‘I’m truly sorry about Silas,’ he called out.

Noah didn’t acknowledge his comment and turned to walk back the way he’d come, not wanting to engage in conversation or confront the dog, but Edward hadn’t finished.

‘I wanted to ask, however, why you initially told Constable Lovett that you’d left me and Silas together on the common, when it was I who left the pair of you?

Especially, as I didn’t mention to anyone about our encounter just prior to your brother’s fall – how you’d collapsed and your subsequent unprovoked attack… ’

Noah, who still seemed much sharper than on their first meeting, swung his head back and narrowed his eyes.

‘Because, the thing is,’ Edward continued, ‘I heard shouts from above when I was on the beach, only moments before the tragedy.’

‘You think I pushed my brother?’

‘Did you?’

‘I left him on the common and went home. We were both three sheets to the wind. He wasn’t in control of his actions and must have slipped.’

Edward knew he was lying. He’d seen the signs a hundred times before. Noah couldn’t meet his eyes and his body stiffened.

‘You didn’t know who I was.’

‘Like I said, I’d been drinking.’ But the Garrod brothers never drank to excess. If his cousin was to be believed, no one in the village did.

‘Who am I then, Noah? We spent a whole evening together at the Sailmaker’s Arms when I first arrived in Thistlewick Tye. What did we talk about?’

‘You’re related to the man who lives in Copperpenny Lane. I didn’t recognise you the other night because I was in my cups and it was dark. Look, I’ve just lost my brother and don’t appreciate being accused of things by you.’

Edward decided to test the water and see how this man would react to his accusation. Could the dead rise again? The dog was certainly unhappy about something.

‘Silas was not your brother because you’re not Noah Garrod. You know it, Banjo knows it and I know it.’ If you stated a thing as fact, it was surprising how people buckled. Look at the success of his séances.

‘You know nothing.’

‘It’s you who knows nothing. Let me tell you exactly who I am, as you seem to have forgotten.

I’m Edward Blackmore – eminent spiritualist at your service.

’ He briefly tipped his top hat and bowed his head.

‘I’ve devoted my life to communicating with the dead – those tortured souls trapped in this world who need to unburden themselves before they move on.

I was called to Thistlewick Tye a couple of weeks ago by my cousin, because he believed the psyche of a dead girl called Esfir had inhabited the body of his seriously ill wife. ’

Noah’s face jerked back in his direction and Edward thought he’d never seen a man look more shocked in his whole life.

All the colour drained from his face and he started to shake.

He closed the gap between them in a heartbeat and gripped at Edward’s collar, pulling him closer and spraying spittle as he growled.

‘A girl claiming to be Esfir? Where?’

Despite the pain of Noah’s knuckles digging into his neck and the close proximity of this angry man, it was Edward’s turn to say nothing.

It was almost as though he knew the girl Emma had claimed to be.

An uneasy feeling swirled in Edward’s stomach.

He suddenly knew, beyond all doubt, that spirits existed, because Noah was definitely possessed by someone no longer of this world.

And he knew this, not because he was blessed with any supernatural gift, but instead because logic and reason told him there was no other explanation.

‘Do you believe in life after death, Mr Garrod? That it’s possible to die in this world but for your soul to live on?’

Noah released his grip and Edward took a step back, preparing for his biggest lie of all. He swapped his cane from one hand to the other, sliding his right hand up to twist the brass collar under the knob in readiness. Noah Garrod had killed once and could easily do so again. He must be prepared.

‘…Because I summoned Silas Garrod and he told me that you’d murdered him.’

The horror Noah felt at this announcement was apparent in the way his mouth gaped open, his whole body tensed and his eyes rapidly expanded.

Spirit possession was claimed in a variety of cultures across the world – from Christianity to Hinduism, from the Americas to deepest Africa.

Edward perfectly understood that these roaming souls need not necessarily be demonic, and could be benign but, having witnessed the brutal attack on Silas, it was clearly not the case here.

Whoever had taken possession of Noah Garrod was a bad man – killing poor Silas, who’d devoted his life to caring for his brother.

By confronting him, he was putting himself in an extremely dangerous position.

Banjo began a low growl, and Edward felt reassured the dog was on his side.

It was two against one. Besides, he didn’t believe Noah to be armed on this occasion and was poised to whip out the long, thin blade hidden within his cane.

But the man before him suddenly darted to the left and ran through the overgrown, wet grass of the common and towards the woods.

He’d expected further anger and aggression, but instead sensed that Noah’s overriding emotion had been fear.

Rather than attacking him, he had simply fled.