Voices in a Haunted Room

I was soon about to find what I sought. A cupboard has been built round it. But there it was. What an amazing discovery! When I told Mademoiselle about it she wanted to move into this room. She said that if I was in the kitchens she could talk to me from the bedroom. I can see you think I have exaggerated, Madame. Allow me to go to the kitchens. I will speak to you through the tube.” I sat there on the bed and in due course the voice came up to me.

“Mrs. Frenshaw. You can hear me, I believe.”

It was all coming back: the memory of my abandonment on this very bed, the voice through the tube. It did not sound like Jeanne’s voice exactly; it was muted, hollow, in the way that other voice had been.

I stared at the door.

There had been someone in the house then ... someone in the kitchens, someone who knew that I had been here with Jonathan.

That other voice echoed in my mind. “Mrs. Frenshaw, remember the seventh commandment.”

Jeanne came back triumphant.

“You heard?”

I nodded.

“You could have answered me through the tube. What a discovery! This house is full of surprises. I am so glad we came here.”

I walked home slowly across the fields. Jeanne wanted to accompany me but I wouldn’t hear of it.

There was one thought which whirled round and round in my mind. Someone was there.

Someone saw us go into the house. Someone knew.

All through the sultry days of July we awaited the birth of my mother’s child. We were all a little anxious ... except her. She had no qualms. I had never before seen Dickon in such a state of nerves. He had always been so calmly sure of himself and his ability to get what he wanted; now he was hi a state bordering on terror.

Even the news of Robespierre’s execution did not arouse great interest in him, although he had been predicting it during the previous months and was sure that his removal would mean the end of the revolution.

He had no thought for anything but my mother.

On the fourth of August my little half sister was born and the moment she put in an appearance our anxiety evaporated. It was a quick birth; my mother came through with rare ease; and the child was perfect. We were all sitting tense, waiting; and I shall never forget the sound of that baby’s crying.

I ran to Dickon and embraced him, and as he looked at me I was sure there were tears in his eyes. But his first thought was, of course, for my mother, and later when I went hi to see the child, he was there, holding her hand, sitting by her bed; and I was overcome with emotion just looking at them.

They were delighted with a baby-quite sure, both of them, that there had never been such a perfect child. They marvelled over her possession often toes and the requisite number of thumbs and fingersall fitted with nails. They gazed at her red wrinkled face as though it were the very pinnacle of beauty; she was everything they wanted to complete their happiness.

There was a great deal of discussion about a name; and finally my mother said she was to be Jessica. She did not know why, but the name seemed just right.

So Jessica she became.

I had another month to wait and the days passed quickly.

I was not going out now, apart from an amble round the garden. My mother had quickly recovered and liked to have me with her. We talked about babies mostly, and that meant for my mother the perfections of Jessica.

The midwife stayed on to be ready for me, and my mother had engaged a nurse-Grace Soper-who would look after the two babies when mine arrived.

Everything was in readiness, waiting.

Often enough during those last weeks I had forgotten my fears. I lived in a world of serenity. I had recovered from the shock of discovering that it had been no ghostly voice that I had heard, and that a living person had actually been in the house while I had been there with Jonathan; and that person shared our secret.

It had been a devastating discovery and one which filled me with dread, yet I could forget it. I could think of nothing but the coming of my child.

At last the day arrived.

My delivery was not as swift and easy as my mother’s. I suffered long and intensely and now and then the thought would come into my mind that I was being punished for my sins.

But at last it was over and my child was born. There came that moment of sheer bliss when I heard my baby’s voice for the first time.

“Another little girl!” That was the midwife.

A little girl! I was exultant. In that moment I did not care what had brought her to me. All that mattered was that she had come.

They put her in my arms. She seemed prettier than Jessica. But perhaps that was just a mother’s prejudice. She had fine fair hair whereas Jessica’s hair was dark brown.