Ghosts of Winter (14 page)

“No, not at all,” I replied, wishing I could claim she had arrived in the middle of me doing something of pressing importance, just so she would think I’d done something constructive with my day. I checked myself in the middle of that thought process. Why the hell was I so concerned what she thought about me? I tried to relax and react in a rational way to her presence.

“Great. Well, I won’t stop long, there’s just a few things I wanted to go over with you, and I thought I’d find you at home.” She had climbed up the steps to stand beside me now, and I saw she was smiling. To my relief, she appeared much looser than on the previous occasions I had encountered her.

“I’m not always at home.” Another little white lie.

“If this was my house, I would be,” Anna said, putting me at my ease surprisingly quickly. She was an efficient human being, but she was still human. I had to remember that about her.

“You’d better come in.” I stood aside to let her walk into the house before me. “But please excuse the mess. I didn’t expect visitors today.”

“I hope I’m more than a visitor by now.” Her tone suggested nothing, but her words made me warm all the same. I wondered if that was her intention or my own flustered reaction. “I’d hate to feel you were standing on ceremony or anything.”

“Well, yes, of course. I mean, I’m not, but I’d still prefer the house to be tidy.”

I followed her into the hallway. “What’s that smell?” she asked, sniffing the air. Instantly my heart sank. Accustomed to the way my home smelled, I could detect nothing at all and didn’t relish the idea of an odour strong enough she felt the need to comment on it.

“That depends. Is it good or bad?” I asked cautiously.

Anna’s lips curved into a smile. “I love the way you’re so concerned what I think, Ros, but really, don’t be.”

My face flushed bright red at her words. Her perceptive powers were startling. Alarmingly, my reaction only served to increase the warmth of her expression. “I’m not,” I protested. “Well, I mean I am, but—”

“It’s a good smell, by the way. Incense maybe?”

I tried to relax, but there was a new warmth in her expression which I found difficult to ignore. I sensed she was making an effort to be friendlier than before. I hoped I’d made a favourable impression on her so far. I grew warm at the notion. “In that case it’s probably a combination of the lavender and clary sage oil I’ve been vaporising to help purify the air and the energy, the patchouli I’m wearing, and the scent of the rose candle I lit last night.” I told her the detail in an attempt to repay her new friendliness with my own. I wanted her to know a little more of who I was. If she didn’t like it, that was her lookout. Much as I hoped she would like me, I was past the point in my life for hiding my true self, eccentricities and all.

“That’s quite a combination.” She sniffed the air again.

“Too much?”

“No, it’s nice. You’ve been purifying the energy?”

“Something like that.” I hesitated. “I mean, I’m not totally sure I believe in things like that the way I used to when I was younger, but I always think it can’t hurt. A nice smell makes a place feel cleaner and brighter, don’t you think?”

“Oh, absolutely. And your combination is better than anything artificial out of an aerosol.”

“I’m glad you think so.” I smiled at what was apparently a compliment, though her tone made it difficult to tell. I searched my head for words as I continued to gaze at her. “So, what was it you wanted?” I winced internally when I made it sound as though I wanted our conversation back on a professional footing.

“Downstairs,” she told me. “The kitchens. I realised we never went down there together, and there’s a couple of measurements I want to take. It makes a difference as to what use the space can be put to, you know, to fit with the regulations.”

“No, I didn’t know. I’m very glad you’re here.” I wondered if she was at all aware of how truly I meant those words. I paused for a moment to be sure she appreciated my sentiment. “You know, you didn’t have to come all the way here just for that.”

Now it was Anna’s turn to flush slightly. “Oh, it’s a nice drive this way, and you know, I do like to do things right away when they need doing.” She shrugged, and I took the hint the subject was ended. I was left with the sense there was more behind her visit than keeping up her usual efficiency, but I couldn’t bring myself to try to project what the added motivation could be. I knew I’d only start thinking things I shouldn’t.

“Let’s go down there now, shall we?” I gestured towards the back of the hallway and the door to the servants’ staircase.

As we made our way down the narrow stairs to the kitchens below, I felt Anna’s gaze on me as she followed behind me. I grew uncomfortable and struggled to break the silence. I was glad when she asked, “Have you been down here many times so far?”

“Not so many,” I replied honestly, as we reached the place where the stairs took a sharp turn to the right before opening out into the kitchen. The first room was very large, with a vaulted ceiling. The walls had clearly once been limewashed, but most of the surface had faded and flaked away. There were windows along one side, high in the wall. Most of the kitchen was underground, and those windows were only an inch above the ground. As a consequence, where they were broken, weeds from the outside invaded the kitchen. At the end of the room was a huge, wide brick fireplace, in which stood an old cast iron range. I hoped it would be possible to restore the range, since it looked so perfect in its position. In the centre of the room was a large, heavy wooden table with a scarred and scratched surface. Arched doorways led into smaller chambers, which I knew to be the laundry and pantry, and a short flight of stairs led to a door to the rear of the building, where there was a small courtyard, and the traces of an overgrown kitchen garden, surrounded by the remains of what had once been stables and a coach house.

“I think I’d have spent a lot of time down here myself,” Anna said, looking around keenly.

“It is interesting,” I said. “But you know...”

“What, the threat of more ancient bones stowed here by the evil count puts you off?” That smile was twitching at her lips again, and her eyes sparkled. My palms grew moist, and I pressed them against the fabric of my skirt.

“I’m not a slave to my imagination.” I laughed.

“Worried about ghosts?”

“I don’t believe in them.” It wasn’t wholly true. I liked the idea of ghosts but would need proof before I’d really believe in anything of the sort. However, I didn’t want Anna to think I was frightened of poltergeists or something.

“Me either actually,” she said. “But what is it then?”

“I don’t know. Just a feeling I guess. It feels a little sad down here. I think I can picture the warmth and hustle and bustle in the kitchens when people lived in Winter, and this is such a contrast.” I shrugged, uncomfortable. “I don’t suppose you know what I mean.”

“Actually, I do.” Anna was regarding me keenly, as though she was reading me, drawing conclusions about me. I wondered what they were, felt myself more exposed than was completely comfortable. Yet somehow I was beginning to trust Anna, to understand she was perceptive and not at all judgemental. She paused for a moment. “I think you see history like I do. It’s never really dead, is it? The echoes of the people that were here before never quite die away.”

“Exactly!” I was disproportionately excited to find we had such a sense of history in common. “So you don’t think I’m crazy?”

“I think you’re sensitive to your surroundings. Which is a very good thing.” Anna smiled. I flushed in response, surprised she would pay me such a touching compliment. I tried to receive it as gracefully.

“Thanks. Don’t you think it seems so much worse in a place like this. I mean, the people here would have been so busy, so vibrant—”

“And now it’s silent and empty,” Anna concluded, describing my sentiments exactly. “You know, that’s one of the reasons I love my job. When I help restore a building, it’s like restoring some of its life too.”

The brief glimpse Anna allowed me of her motivations delighted me. That they had so much in common with my own way of thinking was an unexpected pleasure. I tried not to linger too long on the assessment of how much we had in common. Looking away from Anna, I glanced around the room, seeing nothing. When I turned back to her, I found she was looking at me intently. She quickly averted her eyes, the faintest of blushes on her cheeks.

“Beautiful floors,” she said abruptly. I looked down at the red quarry tiles I’d barely even noticed until she mentioned them.

“Yes, they are.” My attention was focused on just how disconcerted Anna appeared. She put one hand to her mouth and bit the nail of her index finger, without an apparent awareness she was doing it, and shifted her weight slightly from foot to foot, all the while keeping her eyes on the tiles in question. It was difficult to imagine what could have made her so uncharacteristically ill at ease. I tried very hard not to leap to any conclusions. Surely it was nothing to do with our conversation, with being here with me? It couldn’t possibly be anything to do with me at all, could it? I tried to resist the temptation of allowing the notion but found I could not. I wanted her to be disconcerted because of me. In the best possible way. Causing a crack in that smooth, glassy exterior would be quite a triumph. It was one I wanted to claim.

Suddenly, she looked upwards, and regarded the brickwork above our heads. I was sure she was studying the boundaries of the room to avoid eye contact with me.

“And I love the vaulted ceilings. I think this will be a perfect country kitchen, don’t you?” she asked, rather hurriedly.

“I can’t say I’ve really pictured it.” The obvious attempt to bring the conversation back to the professional almost made me laugh. But I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, and we really did need to talk about the house. “I might have a good imagination for the macabre, but I’m not so good at envisaging what Winter will be like in the future.”

Eventually, Anna looked at me again. “It’s going to be a beautiful house, just as lovely as it was when it was inhabited before.” Her words were a confident assurance, her eyes glowing with enthusiasm once more. Her awkwardness had apparently vanished for the time being, as quickly as it had overtaken her.

“Can you always see the potential in things?” I asked, truly curious.

Anna paused to think about her response, her head tilting slightly to one side as she considered. My eyes slipped past her strong jawline and to her pale, slender throat. I forced my gaze back to meet hers. “Not always,” she told me in an earnest tone, “but usually. I suppose I’m an optimist.”

“I think you have the skills to make your optimism well founded.”

Anna smiled with pleasure. “I’m pleased that you have so much faith in me, Ros. I only hope I live up to it.”

“Oh, you seem like the sort of person who always lives up to expectations,” I said, unable to resist a teasing tone.

“I try,” she replied wryly. “Depends on the expectations of course.” That smile twitched at her lips again.

“I can assure you mine are wholly realistic at least.” I paused to remind myself we were talking about Winter. “All I really want is to do justice to what Auntie Edie wanted. Other than that, it’s all in your hands.”

“Such power could go to my head,” she said with a widening of her smile.

“As long as you take care of Winter for me, you can be as much of a dictator as you want.”

Anna laughed, with that peculiar wrinkled expression and musical tone I’d noticed before. “Now that is a dangerous promise!”

I giggled with her. Her mirth was genuinely infectious. As our laughter trailed off, there was a moment of silence during which we stared, still smiling, into each other’s eyes. I saw her press her lips together pensively, as she broke her gaze away from mine. My throat tightened. I could not deny the tension that hovered in the air between us, and it grew increasingly hard to ignore what the cause of it was. At least, I knew why my heart fluttered, and the prospect she was experiencing anything like the same sensations only made my own palpitations worse.

“I am very glad I have you to rely on,” I said seriously. “I know we’ve not started work yet, but you’re a very reassuring person to have onside.”

“Reassuring? That doesn’t sound very dashing and sexy.” Her words were impulsive, and she looked as though she wanted to suck them back in and swallow them as soon as she’d spoken.

“Oh, you’re dashing and sexy too.” I said it casually, as though it was simply the joke that led on naturally. Only neither of us quite managed to laugh with the appropriate ease.

“I’m glad to be reassuring,” Anna said hurriedly. “And for the record, I do think it’s a wonderful thing you’re doing, taking on Winter.”

“I didn’t have a lot of choice.”

“Don’t be so modest. I’m sure there’s plenty of money, you could have simply called in the experts and supervised from afar. You didn’t need to move here and take such a personal interest. It’s really very brave of you.”

“Not really brave.” I considered and decided it was time for a little more honesty. “I’ll confess to you I was completely at a loose end before I came here. In between jobs, as I told you. And for a few other reasons. Coming up here was the easiest option really.”

“Other reasons?” Anna probed gently. Her eyes were softened with interest, and I saw a well of understanding there. I wanted to tell her more.