The Haunting of Highdown Hall (19 page)

“Are you ready?” said Ruby to the others.

All four assured her they were.

“And, Cash, are you sure you want to come in with us?”

“I’m sure,” he replied, his face stern with determination.

Ruby took a deep breath. “Let’s go then.”

The door was resistant. Ruby had expected this. She struggled slightly to get it to open, but at last it gave way. Once everybody was in, she closed the door behind them while everyone took up position in the centre of the room and closed their eyes. She had already explained to Cash that standing in a circle reinforced them by combining their strength. She had also advised him that, unless she or Theo said otherwise, he should remain holding hands with those on either side of him, especially once a connection had been made.

Satisfied that all was in place and everyone knew what to do, she began. “Cynthia, it’s Ruby. My colleagues and I are back again. Please don’t be angry with us, you know why we’ve come back, not to pester you but to help you. You’re stuck in the dark, Cynthia, and you don’t belong there.”

The air around them was still. The only sound that of Cash shuffling.

“Cynthia,” continued Ruby, “we know why you’re hiding from the light.”

Taking another deep breath and squeezing Cash’s hand, she spoke Lytton’s name.

Lytton!
A voice beside her screamed.
He sold my soul. I want it back!

Neither Corinna nor Cash could hear Cynthia’s words but Theo and Ness stiffened immediately.

“Lytton has
not
sold your soul,” Ruby’s voice was resolute. “Neither he nor any other human being has the power to do so. Lytton was a fraud, Cynthia, a charlatan. He was exposed as such not once, but twice. You wouldn’t have known, because it happened two years after you’d passed, in 1960. He tricked you, Cynthia, and not just you, other women too. He used your desire for fame to trick you. Your soul is your own.”

There was silence again. Was she listening, Ruby wondered? Taking in what had been said? Trying to comprehend? Or perhaps she was already moving towards the light, the lie that tethered her in fear to this realm revealed at last.

Ruby opened her eyes and glanced around. The atmosphere was calm. Too calm.

Suddenly Ness’s eyes flew open too.

“She’s still here, Ruby, she doesn’t believe you, she’s...”

Before Ness could finish what she was saying, a bulb in the chandelier above them exploded; then another and another. The sound making Corinna and Cash jump.

“Visualise light and love,” Theo advised. “Don’t be distracted by theatricals.”

In a repeat of last time, the dressing table and bed started shaking – the atmosphere around them darkening considerably, and not just because of the loss of electric light.

“This isn’t working,” whispered Ruby to Theo. “We’re just irritating her further. I’ve got no choice; I’ve got to get Rawlings in.”

“I really don’t think you should,” Theo whispered back but urgently.

Ruby stood her ground.

“It’s the only idea I have right now. We need to send Cynthia to the light, not only for her sake but for Psychic Surveys too. You know the damage Mr Kierney could do us.”

Before Theo could retort, Ruby let go of her hand and Cash’s, joining them together instead. Making for the door, she had to use her hand to feel her way, unable to believe how dark the room had become despite the natural light streaming in through the tall windows.

The door was stuck again, keeping them in this time instead of locking them out. She didn’t know if she’d be able to yank it open by herself or whether she’d need Cash to come and help. Gradually, it relented.

“Mr Rawlings,” shouted Ruby, startling him. “Would you please come in?”

Although he looked wary, he obeyed. Ruby surrounding him with more white light as he shuffled forward.

“It’s okay,” she said, taking hold of his hand. “You’ll be safe, I promise. I just want you to explain what happened, that Cynthia did
not
sell her soul to the Devil. That her fame was due to her talent and persistence, nothing more. Speak loud and clear. And, Mr Rawlings,” she added, “it might be an idea to say you’re sorry.”

Leading him to the safety of the circle, Ruby prompted him to speak.

“Cynthia,” he said, his voice quivering at first but gaining in strength the more he spoke. “It’s me, Raw... Lytton.”

Abruptly, all activity seized.

“I... I’ve come to apologise for duping you all those years ago. I never thought for one minute you would believe me. I... I just wanted to... to be with you. You were
so
beautiful.”

“Go on,” Ruby encouraged.

“It was a bad thing I did, a very bad thing, I know that now. But I want you to know, I was never in league with the Devil. Of course I wasn’t. I tricked you. I’m sorry.”

“Cynthia,” Ruby took over, “your rise to fame, I believe it happened soon after the incident with Lytton. But it had nothing to do with him or with any satanic force. You were, quite simply, a talented actress, one of the finest the world has ever seen. That was the reason for your success, nothing more, nothing less. Stop hiding, Cynthia. Come out.”

Nothing. No response at all. Where
was
she? Was she even listening?

“Has it worked?” Rawlings asked, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the dressing table chair flew across the room, landing just short of the bed.

“Get him out!” yelled Theo, referring to the old man, but she needn’t have bothered. He was already running on surprisingly nimble legs towards the room’s only exit, disappearing into the safety of the corridor.

Grabbing hold of Theo’s hand, Ruby closed the circle yet again.

“Cynthia!” she yelled, but in her mind only.

Liar,
came the acrid reply.
You’re all liars, him as well as you!
“Cynthia,” Theo tried to remonstrate. “Cynthia, we don’t want to upset you, believe me, that is not our intention. We brought Lytton here only to help you realise that you do not belong to evil, that you belong to all that is good, whatever he made you think then. Please, I implore you, linger here no more. Look to where the light is shining and go to it. You are quite safe.”

This is my home! I will not leave.

“But why, Cynthia? Why won’t you leave?” It was Ness this time.

Because he’s there, in the dark, waiting for me. I cannot leave.

Ruby was nonplussed. Who was waiting for her in the dark? Not the Devil, they’d established that.

“Cynthia,” she beseeched, “look again, there is no one waiting for you in the dark, no one at all.”

Yes there is!

As Cynthia flung these words at them, the room was plunged into complete darkness. Ruby could only feel the others now, and she could also feel the energy around her building to catastrophic proportions. Suddenly another agonising scream rang out, but one that was all too human.

As the daylight began to edge its way warily back, Theo was the first to step forward, shouting Corinna’s name. Looking over, Ruby could see Corinna, slumped in a heap on the floor, blood pouring from the side of her temple.

“Oh God,” she breathed, rushing to Corinna’s side also.

“Be careful, don’t touch her, not until we know what’s wrong,” said Ness, calm and level-headed.

It was Cash who found the perfume bottle, lying just a few feet from where Corinna lay.

“Could Cynthia have thrown this?” he asked, alerting the others to it.

Ruby nodded. “Yes, I think she could have done.”

“A ghost can do that?” replied Cash in horror.

“Only when severely provoked,” said Theo, her accusatory tone not lost on Ruby.

Corinna was coming round.

“Ugh,” she said groggily. “What happened?”

Her hand reaching up, she touched her head gingerly with her fingertips.

“Blood,” she said. “Why am I bleeding?”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Theo replied tenderly. “Cynthia got a bit upset, that’s all. We need to get you out of here though, to a hospital, straight away.”

“No, I’m fine...” started Corinna, trying to get to her feet but quickly becoming overwhelmed by wooziness, she sank back down again.

Cash hooked his hands underneath her arms and raised her gently to her feet. Lifting Corinna into his own arms, he cradled her there whilst looking at Theo.

“Take her to my car,” instructed Theo. “And Rawlings too; take them both.”

As Cash carried Corinna out of the room, Theo and Ness turned to Ruby.

“You should
never
have brought him in here,” said Theo, her eyes blazing.

“I thought it would help,” replied Ruby, feeling small suddenly.

“Well, now you know,” said Theo, turning abruptly and leaving the room. Ness, who had said nothing but looked decidedly more sympathetic than Theo, followed her.

Alone in the grand, empty room, Ruby looked around. Everything was normal. Well, as normal as it could be in a haunted shrine. She knew Cynthia had used up all her energy in that strike against Corinna, she’d be exhausted now, drained completely.

“I’m not done with you, Cynthia,” Ruby shouted out, anger temporarily replacing any sympathy she might have previously felt for her. “What you did today, attacking Corinna, was not acceptable. You don’t belong at Highdown Hall, not anymore. Face up to it. And you are wrong. There is
no one
waiting for you in the shadows. You belong in the light, Cynthia, and make no mistake; I will be the one to send you there. I won’t rest until I do.”

As she turned to go, Ruby was sure she could hear the sound of weeping.

***

How dare they bring that man in here, the man who insisted he was Lytton. How could he be? Lytton was younger than her, a year or so, not an old man almost at the end of his days. He was further proof they were lying, that they hadn’t got a clue what they were talking about. Via Corinna, she had shown them she was a woman not to be messed with.

A cry of anguish escaped Cynthia. Did they
really
think she would believe them? Lytton, his face, she would never forget it, or his legacy. The very first time they had met she had known there was something about him. He seemed to walk alone, tall and straight, a confident air about him. She had been appearing in a play at the Strand at the time,
Summer’s End
, as the daughter-in-law to the main character, and Lytton; he had waited outside for her, at the stage doors. Many people would wait outside the stage doors, pencil and paper in hand, poised to ask the stars for their autographs; but never
her
autograph, they didn’t want the signature of someone who uttered less than ten lines in just under two hours. Of course she’d been flattered by his attentions.

“You’re the real star of that show,” he had said, catching up beside her as she hurried along the Embankment. “You knock the others into a cocked hat.”

“Go away,” she had replied lightly. How she wished she had meant it.

“It’s a lovely night, let’s go for a drink, I’ll buy.”

When she had started to protest, he’d turned on the charm. “No, really, it would be such an honour if you did.”

He wasn’t a bad looking man. He had a twinkle in those blue eyes of his. A certain charisma, she supposed. Besides which, she was lonely. Since arriving in London she had made numerous friends but many had fallen by the wayside over the years, often citing her ambition for driving a wedge between them.

“You think of nothing else,” one friend, Elsie, had said to her once. “It’s... it’s stifling.”

Stifling it may be, but she held onto her dreams and one day she would show them, she had promised herself that.

One drink with Lytton had turned into two, one night into another. He appeared to be her greatest fan, constantly telling her how beautiful she was, how talented, how damned unfair it was that the world would not wake up and take notice. He seemed to understand her; he also said he could help her. She couldn’t deny it, she had been intrigued.

He had a flat in Central London, in the Lancaster Gate area. When he had told her, Cynthia had been impressed. She rented a room from a lady in the East End, in a house no better than the one she grew up in, something that irked her terribly, particularly when she lay awake in the lonely hours of the early morning. That evening she had finished work and hurried along to the address he had written down for her on a scrap of paper.

“There might be others in attendance, you don’t mind, do you?” he had asked her.

Of course, she didn’t mind. In fact, she thought she might prefer it. Even though she craved attention, she found him overbearing at times. Perhaps it was the way he licked his lips when he spoke to her or the way his eyes flickered constantly to her bosom. Lascivious was a word she had just learnt. It had been used to describe a character in a new script she was reading, and it seemed to suit Lytton perfectly. Still, he said he could help her and how he could do so, she was keen to know.