Voices in a Haunted Room

I wondered what the owners would think of Mrs. Trent as a custodian of their property. She was certainly not going to encourage buyers with such talk.

I said with light reproof: “It is fortunate that Mademoiselle d’Aubigne cannot understand you or she would be deterred from considering the house.” Mrs. Trent clapped her hands over her mouth. “My big tongue! It always was a bit of a clacker.”

Evie looked embarrassed and I noticed that Dolly watched her sister all the time as though she felt insecure without her.

“There is some furniture in the place,” went on Mrs. Trent, by no means abashed. “Some of it’s supposed to be quite good. It goes with the house. Mind you, a bit of renovation would be needed.”

I walked away from her, following Jeanne and Sophie to the staircase.

“Do you want to see the rest?” I asked.

“But of course,” replied Sophie.

“There’s a loose board on the first floor,” called out Mrs. Trent. “Evie ... you know where. Go up and show them.”

Evie followed Sophie and Jeanne up the staircase and Dolly went with her.

I was looking about the hall. I thought I would allow them to look round on their own and I hoped that Evie would go when she had shown them the loose board.

“The stairs are a bit much for me,” explained Mrs. Trent. She came close to me. “What do you think of my Evie?”

“She’s very attractive.”

Mrs. Trent beamed. “She is. None could deny it. I’d like her to do well for herself.”

She spoke a little wistfully. “It’s not easy. People have never taken to me in these parts. They never forget. Oh, I’ve been invited here and there now and again. But it’s not the same. I want my Evie to do well. I’d like to see her mistress of some grand house ... with looks like that.”

I thought that perhaps in the right environment, which meant away from her grandmother, Evie might be very attractive.

“Well, there is time to go yet,” I said.

“I wouldn’t say that. She’s sixteen, coming up to seventeen, much of a muchness with yourself. No hesitation about you. It was going to be one of them, wasn’t it? And I don’t suppose it mattered which one. They’ve both got a tidy bit coming to them.”

She really was an impossible woman.

Evie appeared at the head of the stairs.

“Did you show them the loose board?”

“Yes, Grandmamma. And I told them where they must look for others.”

“There’s a lot wants doing to this house. Where’s Dolly?”

“She was talking to the lady with the hood.”

“Can they understand each other?”

“Not very well.”

“I’ll go and see how they are getting on,” I said.

I went up the stairs, leaving Mrs. Trent and Evie in the hall. Why didn’t the woman see that she was intruding? She was ignorant and illbred. I wanted to tell her that she would have little hope of catching a husband for her grand-daughter if she behaved with such crudity. I found Sophie with Jeanne on the first floor.

They were going through the bedrooms there.

“They are spacious,” Jeanne was saying, “and could be made attractive.”

Sophie replied: “Such a lot would have to be done.”

“You would enjoy doing it,” Jeanne told her.

They mounted the stairs with Dolly in their wake. I felt an urge to look at the rooms.

I went into the main bedroom. There was a high four-poster bed there. I touched the curtains and they almost disintegrated in my hands, so old were they, but the wood of the bed was very solid and beautifully carved; and the court cupboard on the other side of the room would look very fine if polished. Yes, it was true, there was a great deal of good furniture in the place and going with the house.

But of course Sophie could not be seriously thinking of taking it. It was too large really ... just for her and Jeanne. This was a house which needed people-lots of them-a jolly family, parties at Christmas and such times, dancing in the hall.

I went along to the smaller bedroom where I had once fancied I heard a voice. I stood in the centre of the room. There was a four-poster there, smaller than the other, more modern, and the curtains about it were quite good-heavy blue velvet; but they were very dusty and there were cobwebs in the room.

A ghostly room, I thought. But that was because I had fancied I heard a voice here.

Then I heard it again. The same hollow voice. It said: “You’re being watched, Mrs. Frenshaw.”

I stared up at the ceiling, at the walls; I stood, bewildered, looking about me.

“Who’s there?” I cried sharply.

Silence, and then clearly I heard the quick intake of breath, the low laugh ...

horrible laughter. Someone was jeering at me.

I went to the door. There was no one in the corridor.

I was shaking. Why should I imagine I could hear voices in this room? There was no one here. I must have imagined it and yet I could have sworn ...

Dolly was coming down the stairs.

“Is Mademoiselle still up there?” I asked.

“Yes. They like it.”

“No,” I replied. “They are just interested.”

She shook her head. “They do like it. It suits the lady. It’s what she wants.”

“She won’t make a hasty decision.”