The Haunting of Highdown Hall (35 page)

“Cash, Corinna, would you mind walking through every room downstairs, cleansing with sticks and oils, opening windows and doors where you can and leaving them open?”

“Of course not,” said Corinna, kneeling down by the black bag and unzipping it.

“Start with the kitchen first and then the drawing rooms, leave the ballroom for last.”

“What about you?” asked Cash. “You’re not going upstairs, are you?”

“Not without you,” Ruby assured him.

Looking slightly happier, Cash followed Corinna to the rooms that led off from the Grand Hall, the darkness enveloping them greedily.

Ruby turned to Theo and Ness.

“The ballroom?” she said.

“The ballroom,” agreed Theo.

The energy in the ballroom, if not quite at fever pitch, was certainly frenetic. The music was louder here and the shades more dense, almost tangible – dapper gentlemen in black tie, ladies in ballgowns, swirling around the dance floor. Others huddled together in groups, almost conspiratorial. Maids and waiters weaved expertly in and out of the glamorous party goers, proffering an endless flow of champagne. Ruby wondered briefly which of the maids was Esme – although she wasn’t dead, the shade of her younger self belonged to this night. She led the other two over to the far end of the ballroom.

“I think this is where John Sterling was standing.”

Before them was indeed an outline of a tall gentlemen; the shell of a spirit long gone.

“Dear, oh dear,” muttered Theo, but not entirely without amusement. Gazing at him, she continued, “She did taunt him, didn’t she? He was madly in love with Cynthia and yet I get the distinct feeling she barely glanced at him all evening.”

“She was certainly a player,” agreed Ruby.

“But you don’t think it’s him that haunts her?” enquired Ness. “He’s incensed enough to remain grounded.”

“Not according to Cynthia,” said Ruby. “John wasn’t vengeful.”

Ness didn’t look convinced.

Theo sighed as she looked around. “I’d have loved to have attended a party such as this. Her invites must have been the most coveted in the land.”

“I should think the cream of British society was here,” said Ness, also looking wistful.

“And American society too,” chimed in Ruby. “The jet set crossed the ocean for this.”

A sudden banging noise from upstairs put a halt to their musings.

“Madam doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” said Theo, glancing upwards.

“She still hasn’t got used to it.” replied Ruby, also turning her head towards the ceiling.

Theo and Ness made their way back to the Grand Hall in search of Cash and Corinna but Ruby lingered for a while longer, walking around the perimeters of the room, searching for something more, but also, if she were honest, reluctant to let go of the scene before her. It would be the only chance she’d ever get to witness such a sumptuous occasion. Just before she reached the door, she stopped.

“Theo, Ness,” she called.

“What is it?” asked Theo. “David Levine?”

“I think so,” said Ruby, “I’m picking up the same feelings in this spot as at the site of his death: anger, jealousy and triumph. Whoever this is, he was a man with an axe to grind.”

“An axe meant for Cynthia?” questioned Ness.

“With luck, we’ll soon find out,” replied Ruby, leaving with them this time.

***

They all congregated in the Grand Hall.

“We’ve just got the ballroom to do now,” said Corinna, nodding towards it.

“Okay,” said Ruby, “while you’re doing that we’ll spend some time reinforcing everyone’s shield – ramp our protection up to maximum level before heading upstairs.”

As soon as Cash and Corinna had gone, the remaining three joined hands.

“Remember,” Theo addressed Ruby in particular, “we
all
belong to the light.”

Ruby nodded at her.

Several minutes later, Cash and Corinna re-joined them, the downstairs cleansing complete. Ruby felt a cold draught; the French doors had been left ajar.

“Are we ready?” Ruby asked.

Four voices assented, not one of them even slightly hesitant, despite another loud bang from upstairs echoing menacingly through the hall.

Jed valiantly led the way.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Downstairs, the atmosphere had been full of revelry; the same could not be said for upstairs. The atmosphere had always felt increasingly heavy the further up they climbed, as though a great weight was bearing down, the weight of emotions that time could not diminish – fear, anger, grief. At the top of the staircase it was heavier still, becoming even more dense as they ventured towards the turret, bypassing numerous doors, some open, some closed, wanting to peek inside, to make sure that guests from once upon a time weren’t inhabiting still. Ruby had checked all of the rooms on first visiting Highdown Hall and found them empty of any spiritual presence, she hoped that was still the case now and no one had decided to return. Perhaps now would be a good time to start cleansing the upstairs rooms, however, another loud crash drew their attention to Cynthia’s room. Glancing at Theo and Ness, a silent agreement passed between them: they could not keep her waiting any longer. As they gathered outside her door, a whimper escaped Jed.

“It’s alright,” Theo soothed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, nothing at all.”

Ruby suspected Theo’s words were directed at her as much as the dog and she did her utmost to banish the last dregs of fear which insisted on clinging to her heart like a drowning man might cling to the last piece of wreckage. Furtively, she studied the faces of Cash and Corinna, both looked utterly determined. They inspired her.

In contrast to the gates of Highdown Hall, to the oak double doors downstairs, the door to Cynthia’s bedroom gave way easily, almost welcoming them in. One spirit at least was glad to see them. They filed in, their jaws dropping in turn as they did so.

“Whoa.” Theo looked slightly dazed. “Someone’s had a tantrum.”

No longer a revered shrine, the room resembled a bombsite. Even in the gloom they could tell quite a bit of damage had been done. The chair by the dressing table was upturned and there were cushions scattered everywhere. On the floor, perfume bottles, combs and brushes lay at random. One bottle had shattered, releasing a bittersweet smell into the air.

Ruby switched on the side lights, the bulbs in the main light had still not been replaced, and walked over to the bed. The silk cover was rent in two. Before she could quash it, another pang of anxiety flared up inside her and almost caught fire.

“Right,” said Ness, her practical voice another lifeline. “Gather up all implements that could be thrown to hurt someone and get them out of here.”

“Even the crystals?” asked Corinna.

“Even the crystals,” confirmed Ness. “And, Cash, see if you can find some way to ventilate this room, perhaps the bathroom window might open?” Thinking about it she added, “You know what? Break it if you have to. The air in here is desperate.”

Everyone sprang into action, Ruby as surprised as Ness and Theo that they were not being met with resistance. The room bereft of potential missiles, they re-gathered.

“Join hands,” commanded Theo.

Ruby held Cash and Ness’s hands. Corinna stood the other side of Ness, in between her and Theo, who also held hands with Cash.

“Jed,” called Ruby, “come and sit in the middle.”

The dog sloped forwards.

Ruby spoke first.

“Cynthia, we’re back. And this time we’re not leaving until you’ve left too. Remember, the light is where you belong and nothing,
no one,
has the power to keep you from it.”

Pleased at how confident she sounded, she continued. “We know a second spirit resides in this room. A spirit weighed heavily with human issues.” Attempting to address the second spirit, Ruby said, “And I know it was you who attacked me, not Cynthia, but I also know that you did so out of fear and frustration. I don’t like being attacked and I’d like you to refrain from doing so again. But I’ve no hard feelings. I want to help you too.”

There was no response, all was silent, but it was a false silence Ruby knew – a predatory silence. There was only one way to break it.

“The second spirit who resides here, we know who you are. You are David Levine.”

Ruby was right, speaking his name did indeed provoke a reaction, but not from Levine. Suddenly Cynthia shot forward, stopping short just behind Ruby. In her head Ruby heard her scream at her.

He is
not
David Levine!

“Cynthia,” Ruby endeavoured to explain. “It
is
David Levine. He was a guest at your party; he passed the same night as you, not far from here. His car left the road; hit a tree, the accident was fatal. He returned to Highdown Hall, to the last place he remembered.”

He is not David Levine!
He is the Devil!

No, they’d established that there was no such creature; they’d
proven
it to her, that Rawlings was a liar and a cheat, no more capable of conjuring up a demon than Cynthia herself had been. Why was she still so insistent?

“Cynthia,” Ruby tried again, cursing the slight note of hesitancy that had crept into her voice. “It is not the Devil, it’s...”

Before she could finish, Cynthia interrupted.

IT
IS
!

Ruby gasped. Beside her, Ness flinched.

The energy in the room was building, becoming taut around them like a rubber band, making it difficult to breathe.

Ruby was thankful when Theo took control.

“Cynthia, calm down. I want no more of your childish displays of temper. You might have got away with that sort of behaviour in life, but in the spirit world it holds no muster.”

To Ruby’s amazement, the energy depleted slightly as though Cynthia had actually taken notice of Theo’s admonishment. All five of them inhaled deeply, taking the opportunity to fill their lungs whilst they could.

Deciding on a different tack, Ruby addressed the second spirit again. She could sense he was holding back, but why? Gathering strength for a repeat attack? Just let him try.

“Is what Cynthia saying true? Are you a demon? Perhaps even the Devil himself?”

Ruby sensed rather than saw Theo’s look of absolute astonishment that she could ask such a question. But she had to know. Had she been wrong all along? Had Cynthia been right? Her mother too?

An echo of laughter rang out, but it was joyless, containing instead all the dark emotions she had felt both downstairs and at the site of the car crash.

“Please,” Ruby beseeched. “Speak to us. Tell us who you are.”

As soon as the last word left her mouth, Ruby was torn from the circle and spun violently around, almost losing her footing in the process. Preparing to face David, Cynthia’s ‘unknown’ father, or even Lucifer himself, she was stunned to see Cynthia in front of her, not fully manifested but stronger than she had ever been before.

“Wait,” said Ruby, as all four companions rushed to help. “Hold back. It’s Cynthia.”

Looking at the ethereal face before her, a face that was rapidly gaining in substance, Ruby could see why her beauty had had such an impact on the world; Cynthia was breathtaking, exquisite beyond compare. No photograph, no film could ever do her justice. But that wasn’t all there was about her, there was something else, something just as appealing – vulnerability. It was a look she remembered seeing in the eyes of Gayle Andrews in
The Phoenix
, a look that Ruby had thought Cynthia had only adopted for the role. But clearly not, it was very much a part of the actress, it
defined
her somehow. The life-long devotion of Sally Threadgold and John Sterling was easier to understand now. It was a look that made you want to help her, to move heaven and earth to do so.

“Cynthia,” Ruby appealed again, but to the film star this time, “help me.”

Cynthia’s hands, gentle now instead of forceful, moved down to cover Ruby’s. They were cold, as light as air and as soft as gauze. As their fingers clasped, the room and those who inhabited it – Theo, Ness, Corinna and Cash – began to fade, becoming no more than shadows themselves. As Ruby entered another world, a glittering world, her heart leapt with elation, elation laced with hope. Had Cynthia Hart, at last, remembered?

Chapter Thirty

Christmas Eve

A fabulous party! A roaring success!
Of course it was. How could it fail to be? She, the great Cynthia Hart, had the Midas touch; she could do no wrong. It was her thirty-first birthday and so many from showbiz and high society were celebrating with her, their generosity unrestrained when it came to lavishing gifts. A steady stream had been arriving at Highdown Hall all day; rubies, sapphires, pearls and diamonds, set in gold, set in platinum – everybody trying to outdo everybody else, to impress her the most. And from John, a Jaguar XK120, sprayed to match the colour of her hair. His valet had driven it to her door this morning; Sally had burst into her room, excited to tell her. How she loved sports cars, John knew that. She owned several of them, but this new addition was the best by far, as beautiful and elegant as she was. She looked forward to racing it along the country lanes,
“...but with whom I haven’t decided yet”
she had deliberately teased when he’d phoned to check her reaction, delighting at how her artful remark had affected him, imagining all too well the frown that would darken his handsome face.