Property of a Lady

Michael came up out of Harriet’s story with the feeling that he was emerging from a deep lake. Harriet’s story was absolutely classic ghost-tale material: it had every ingredient, right down to the ticking clock in the corner of the firelit room. Still, if you were going to discover a ghost, you might as well do so in the grand style.

It also struck him, very forcibly, that Alice and Harriet, both around the same age when they came to Charect, had each lost a lover to war – Alice’s fiancé had died in Hiroshima, Harriet’s in the Somme. Had that created some kind of bridge for whatever was in the house? And how about Nell, whose husband had been killed in a motorway pile-up? Did that put her in the same category?

It was twenty past two. Michael switched off the bedside light, hoping the images that had haunted Harriet all those years ago would not haunt him. But there were no troubling images or dreams, and he set off after breakfast next morning, reaching Oxford and his rooms just after eleven. He put Harriet’s journal in a desk drawer where Wilberforce could not wreak havoc with it, then looked for Jack’s mobile number. Now that he thought about it, he was not at all sure he actually had it, and an hour’s search finally convinced him he did not, unless Wilberforce had eaten it in an absent-minded moment. Jack and Liz would have long since left for the cousins’ house in New Jersey, but he dialled their home number anyway. It rang four times, then the voicemail cut in:

‘Hi, this is Liz and Jack Harper’s number. Sorry we can’t take this call, but leave a message and we’ll get back. Here’s the cellphone number.’

Michael almost toppled backwards on to the floor trying to find a pen to write the number down, finally scribbling it on the back of an envelope. But when he called, it, too, went to voicemail. He left a careful message saying he was sorry to hear about Ellie and hoped the stay in New Jersey would put things right. He was just reinforcing an email sent last night, he said. Charect House had hit one or two unexpected problems, so it wasn’t really going to be practical for anyone to live in it for a while.

‘So please ring me as soon as you get this and I’ll explain properly.’ He added his direct number at Oriel College, in case Jack had not taken an address book with him, and remembered to add his own mobile as well.

Then it occurred to him it was possible to dial remotely into a phone to pick up messages and that Jack might do so, so he rang the home number again and left the same message there. It was annoying that he could not ring the cousins in New Jersey, but although he had met one or two of them at Jack and Liz’s wedding – including Liz’s redoubtable godmother – he had no idea of any surnames. But Jack and Liz were both efficient; one of them would ring him as soon as they picked up the message.

It was now one o’clock, and he phoned Nell at the shop. She sounded pleased to hear from him. She was fine, she said, and Beth had gone happily off to school that morning.

‘Although I had to beat down the impulse to run after her to make sure she was safe. Shouldn’t you be lecturing or studying or something at this time of day?’

‘I’ve got a tutorial in half an hour,’ said Michael, ‘but I’ve found something out, and I think you might be able to track it to its source.’

‘What have you found?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I’ve found Elvira.’

Even over the phone he was strongly aware of her reaction. She said, ‘Where? How?’

‘I’ll tell you properly later if that’s all right. I’ll have a bit more time this evening.’

‘I’ll be in all evening,’ said Nell. ‘What d’you want me to track down?’

‘Have you ever heard of a place called Brank in that area? Brank Asylum it used to be. Maybe it’s just known as Brank House now.’

‘No. But I can look for it.’

‘I can’t tell you much about it, other than I don’t think it was very far out of Marston Lacy, and it certainly existed around 1905.’